


We Can Begin the World all Over Again

by SummerLeighWind (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Crushes, F/F, F/M, Gen, Halloween, Hogwarts, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Kissing, Letters, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Redemption, Secrets, Sexual Content, Students, Teachers, Teenagers, Time Travel, Visions, kind of, redo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 57
Words: 97,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/SummerLeighWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seemingly chosen at random, a small number of witches and wizards find themselves back in their bodies of the past following their deaths. As they are struggling to understand why and how, fate is attempting to use them to right the destiny of the world before the damage becomes irreparable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Second Go

A chilling scream jolted Narcissa Black from her lilac sheets and lead her out of her room and down a familiar wing of her childhood home to a bedroom at the very end of the hall. In the pitch black, she saw Bellatrix stark white against her forrest green sheets. Drinking in the strange sight, Narcissca realized with no small ounce of awe that her sister is all supple skin and delicate points; she looks-young-and it made Narcissca's breath catch. Yet, she is not the first to speak, the patter of feet came from behind and she turned just in time to see her other sister, Andromeda's wide eyes.

"No..." Her sister muttered and Narcissa can't help but feel the same dread.

"Andy?" Narcissa murmured, gazing up at her sister's rigid features and rich black hair.

"No...this can't be happening," Andromeda moaned; falling back, she shouted out, "Teddy?" When this Teddy didn't answer her, she cried out more shrilly, "My grandson, where are you!?"

Narcissa's oldest sister's unusually lucid eyes spark with a quickness she had rarely - if ever - associated with Bellatrix.

"Stop her," The teenager ordered. The blond stayed frozen to her spot, eyes moving back and forth between each sister. Abruptly, Bellatrix's ruby lips pull back in a feral snarl. "Do you want mother and father to come?" She demanded.

Narcissa's eyes go wide and then gathering up her virgin white gown, she tackled Andromeda to the floor; successfully smothering her mouth in the attack. Andromeda gave a muffled screech and fought her, but Bellatrix surprisingly came to her aid and tokk over keeping Andromeda covered. When the elder became a tad too rough in Narcissca's opinion of quieting Andy, Narcissca pushed her white-clad shoulders and shouts. "Cut it out! Don't  _kill_  her!"

Bellatrix backed off instantly, eyes flashing fretfully, "I don't want to kill anyone," she whispered.

"You already have!" Andromeda bit, pushing herself up on her elbows.

The thin teenager fell back from her two sisters and curled into herself, hands gripping her head in a tight hold. "I-I didn't want to, he said-" She sobbed then and Narcissa found herself more scared than she ever thought possible, (she had not felt such fear even when she had walked to the gallows).

"Bellatrix?" The youngest sister implored, laying a dainty hand on the bony shoulder.

"Don't feel sympathy for her! She's a monster!" Andromeda yelled, making to yank the smaller girl from the other.

Narcissa danced out of the way and places one hand on her non-existent hip, while keeping the other on her elder sister's shoulder. "So? She's family," she hissed.

"She's killed-" The older girls started, but Narcissa was quick to cut in.

"So have I," she said firmly.

Andromeda stumbled back and gazed at the young blonde with hurt eyes. "How could you? I thought-"

"What? I'd stay innocent and pure in war?" She barked with eyes narrowed dangerously, "It's war Andy.  _Y_ _ou_ may not have blood on  _your_  hands, but what else can't you expect from a  _coward_ who shirks away from battle?" The girl said disdainfully.

The dark-haired sister flushed angrily and pointed a finger at the blonde. "You  _know_ that's not true, I do  _not_ hide! I had people to protect, my daughter, my grandson!" She argued.

"Yeah? I had a  _son_  you know, that did not keep  _me_  from  _fighting,_ " Narcissa sniffed.

Andromeda balled her hands into fist and opened her mouth to scream at her sister when Bellatrix broke in. "Stop," she commanded. Looking up at them with a determined gleam, she told the two, "We will be divided no longer, I will not watch us fall apart a second time."

Andromeda crossed her arms, glaring at the elder, "Really? How are you going to stop that? You went  _insane,_ " she sneered.

Bellatrix gave a twisted little smile, stirring a feeling reminiscent to the one her grin of madness used to give. "Yes, I admit that I did. This time, though, I'm not a naïve nor do I believe he can harm you. I will not be  _his_ puppet any longer," she declared.

Narcissa threw her oldest sister off balance with a hug, "Oh do you mean it? I shall love you for always if you do," She gushed, all smiles and hope. The elder smirked at the child cusping adolescence and squeezed her back.

"I do," she answered and with a wary, but wistful gaze. Andromeda took a step forward and fell beside her sister in a plume of white fabric.

"You better," she warned Bellatrix, but her doubt did not stop her from hugging her sister for all she is worth. Maybe, just maybe, the three sisters think they can survive this war entact as a  _family_.

* * *

Just shy of midnight and not unlike his cousin, Sirius Black awakened. Panting and with frantic fingers, he ran them across his body relieved to find it whole, if only smaller. It was certainly better than what he expected after falling into the veil. Some of the tension drained out of him in that moment, but it returned ten-fold at the sound of a terrified shriek. Without a thought, Sirius bolted from his room and to one he remembered from his childhood. Entering the room, he discovered his baby brother sitting up in his pretentiously large bed, looking utterly disproportionate to his room.

Stormy eyes wide and gloss, the child stared at him. "Siri," his brother uttered, face crumpling.

Sirius stared.

"What is with all the racket!?" An angry, but sleepy voice snapped from the doorway. Twisting around, Sirius found his mother and father in their dressing robes, hair mused and faces irritated, but not awake enough to feel truly furious. Glancing between the two, Sirius lifted his chin in defiance and took a step toward them.

"Sorry, I thought I'd play a prank on Reg, he didn't take to it too well!" He apologized in a petulant tone.

His father's eyes flash and a hand came out knocking Sirius to the ground. "You insipid child!" He snarled, "If this ever happens again you can expect more than a slap!"

Sirius stared down at his tiny toes and grounded out between clenched teeth, "Yessir."

The man huffed and putting a hand on his mother's arm ordered. "Go back to bed, don't expect the elves to give you breakfast this morning," and with that, the pair leave.

"You lied," Regulus quietly stated.

Flopping his head back to get an upside down image of his brother, Sirius sneered. "Yes, well, we know how much they like your  _bed-wetting,_ " Regulus flushed, blinking back ashamed tears. Sirius struggled to his feet in the silence, coming closer to his brother he hesitated.

"...Did you wet the bed?" He sighed in part regret for his snide tone and the rest in exasperation.

Hot tears ran down his brother's cheeks as Regulus shook with unsounded sobs. "I-I haven't wet the bed in  _years_  and  _now_...!" He whimpered.

"Aw shite, I didn't-Alright, c'mon get up," Sirius ordered padding over to his little brother and tugging at the sleeves of his pajama top. Regulus reluctantly allowed his older brother to pull him from his bed and strip him of his wet clothes.

"Why are you being so nice?" He sniffed, shivering a bit at the draft caused by living in such a large home.

Sirius looked back with sympathy and hope in his expressive eyes. "Years, huh?" He murmured.

Regulus flushed, but after a pause nodded his head, "Uh-huh."

His brother's eyes cloud with tears and pulls Regulus against him in a brief hug, "I'm sorry,  _so sorry._ "

Regulus averted his gaze to stare at his small bare feet and mumbled, "S'okay, I understand now,  _he_ is  _evil._ "

Sirius nodded his head in agreement and the pulled away to bring out a pair of new sleep clothes for Regulus from the boy's armoire.

"Yeah," His brother exhaled, "Put these on."

Regulus did as he was told while Sirius tossed his old pajamas on to Regulus's soiled bed.

"Kreacher?" Reg called out uncertainly.

With a pop, the elf appeared in front of the two children. "Yes little masters?" He inquired, hands folded in front of him.

Blushing, Regulus stammered. "I, um, I kinda wetthebed."

The elf dipped his head sagely. "Kreacher will take cares of it," he declared and before Regulus can get in another word, his brother's hand grasped his.

"Reg's gonna sleep with me for the rest of the night, don't tell mother and father okay?" He told the elf, hoping for once Kreacher will heed him.

The house elf gave Sirius a suspicious look, but tilted his head in acknowledgement. The two brothers then leave the bedroom and return to Sirius's still warm bed, they crawl in it and fall into exhausted sleep in the bright shine of the full moon.

* * *

Different from any other, Lucius Malfoy did not make a sound as his eyes open to darkness of the dead of night. He gazed up at the canopy of his bed-a reflection of the night sky-something he'd not had since he was a student at Hogwarts. A cold feeling washing over him, Lucius slowly curled into a ball and cried. He found himself relieved, terrified, angry, sad and  _so, so_ _disappointed_. For all his money, for all his fight, he had not been able to save himself or his wife from the aftermath of the war. He and Narcissa had been tried and executed for their Death-Eater status and forced to leave their son without guidance or solace. If there was any silver-lining, it was that the Malfoy fortune was intact as was their boy.

Crying into his silken sheets Lucius vowed he would fix everything; starting right now - he would not allow his father to die thinking Lucius hated him, he would not let Narcissa doubt his love or decisions and he would  _not_ become a  _Death-Eater._ Crawling out from under his sheets, Lucius pulled on a dressing gown and a pair of well-worn slippers before whispering down the long hall to his father's room. Coming to the tall mahogany doors, the blond pushed them open to find his father sitting up in bed his face ashen and jaw tight with pain.

"Father?" Lucius called. In the moon's glow of early hour, the man's eyes open to reveal blue dulled by pain, yet a tiny smile rose on his lips. With great strength, the man's hand managed to reach out to his son and he beckon to him with a spastic jerk.

"Lucius," he rasped, "Come, what's woken you at this hour?

Lucius took several halting steps to his father's bedside before gingerly sitting down on the edge of the mused covers. The man's eyes alight with a bit of life and his out stretched hand came to rest on the blond's own hand before his eyes focused in on his son.

"Father," Lucius began.

The man waited with a patience learned by those who only have one thing left to wait for - death. Swallowing back a whimper, the young teenager whimpered, "I'm sorry."

The senior Malfoy frowned, "What for, my son?"

"For-for  _everything,_ " Lucius whispered and without a second thought, buried his face into his father's lap and cried again. It's a short while after he had finished his sniveling that it dawned on him that his father's fingers were running through his fine flaxen hair. "Father...stop, you're causing yourself pain," Lucius mumbled pulling away from the fingers and gazing at the man in shock and worry.

His father smiled, "You're my son, I'm meant to comfort you."

Lucius's face morphed with a rage-filled scowl.

" _Not when it causes you pain!_ " He hissed.

"Most everything causes me pain these day, son," his father sighed tiredly.

Lucius grit his teeth and growledm "They call themselves light, but look what they do! They curse a man with a painfully slow death."

The father's face softened to sorrow and he grabbed hold of Lucius's own, "It was an accident, misfires happen sometimes."

"In the middle of a nearly empty street? With his wand pointed directly at you?" Lucius countered.

His father almost shook his head, but winced in the end, "I've made more than one enemy in my time, and caused many more to dislike me, yet I will not blame him. I am just as much at fault as he," He told his son.

Lucius couldn't't hold back even more tears and so, he clung to the hand that held his own.

"I don't want you to die," he whispered.

His father smiles at him and said, "All of us must someday, I'm just a bit earlier than expected."

"Dad..." Lucius hiccuped.

"Please don't cry anymore, it reminds too much of your mother," the man begged, his frail hand squeezing Lucius's fingers tightly.

"Please daddy, don't leave me, not-not-" Lucius stammered, holding back the  _again_ by sheer force of will.

"Be strong and remember, keep my death a secret. It's terrible enough that one father is about to be robbed from his son, let's not make it two," he inisisted.

"I will dad," Lucius agreed.

With a last smile, the older Malfoy leaned in and planted a papery kiss to his son's cheek and relaxed back against his pillows.

"You remind me so much of your mother..." he muttered and with a final breath, Abbrax Malfoy passed away. Lucius did't leave his side till the sun had replaced the moon high in the sky and his father's gaunt hand was stiff and unyielding in his grasp.

* * *

In the mid hours between midnight and morn was when James Potter woke with a cry of anguish sounding from him. He wailed and sobbed, never one to hide what he felt from anyone; much less himself. Mother and father come rushing into his room, dad swooping him out of his gold and red sheets frantic hands running up and down the length of his young body as mum pressed her cool hands to his flushed face begging for him to tell her what'd upset her baby so.

James flinched and whimpered from the attention, only one thought in mind;  _His family._ He died, he left them to fend for themselves,  _he left them to die_! He couldn't tell this to his mother and he couldn't tell this to his father; he couldn't tell them how awful he felt for leaving behind his wife to defend his infant son, how terrible he felt for  _failing_. James didn't deserve such lavish attention, he was a failure.

"Love, can't you tell mummy what's wrong?  _Please_ sweetheart!" His mother sniffled taking him from his father's capable arms and into her own, her gentle hold having her cradle him to the nape of her neck, soothing his sweat soaked mop and humming a wavering tune. The boy was so very confounded, but he didn't question the situation he had found himself in. Instead, after a minute of rigid uncomfortableness, he melted and wound his skinny arms around his mother and began to cry in earnest.

"Mum,  _mummy,_ " He hiccuped.

"Oh  _darling,_ " his mother choked swaying with him in her arms. "Why won't you tell me what's upset you so?" She warbled. James shook his head and continued to wail hot and wet into her front, his fingers scrabbling to find a hold that will bring her closer. Suddenly, arms wrap around his middle and James  _screeched_ ; causing the hands that are attempting to grasp him falter and in turn, almost drop him. The hands strengthen their grasp and with one final tug pull him from his mother.

" _Mummy_!" James shrieked, grabbing for her with beseeching eyes.

"James," his father's voice grunted gruffly. The boy ignored him in favor of blubbering and squirming in the hold of his captor. "Goddamnit, James! Look at me!" He shouted and James goes rigid his little head tilting to look up at his captor to find it was his father.

"Dad?" His snuffled.

His father sighed and brought him against his chest. "Want to sleep with us tonight, son?" He asked.

"John-" His mother began when his father held up a hand.

"Not now, Jenna," he growled and at his mother's stricken look said softer, calmer, "We can all have a nice, long chat after breakfast tomorrow, okay?" She nodded numbly and together the trio headed off to his parents' room. Entering the room, his father took him to the mused bed and laid him down in the middle, tucking him in.

"Sleep tight, Jamie," he murmured whilst pulling the silk sheets over his body as his mother does the same.

"Night dad, mum," James whispered and in his spot, he stayed perfectly still until both of them were breathing deeply in their sleeps. After he is certain they are both far enough gone into their nocturne worlds, James tossed about until he was free of the quilts and can stare at his body in the receding moonlight. He was unfinished limbs and soft edges; he was a  _boy_. Face scrunched in a mixture of perplexment and misery, he mumbled to nobody, "What's going on? _"_

* * *

Remus blinked, his body wracked with the leftover pangs familiar to his transformations, but he could not riddle out why that was. He and Tonks had just rushed head long into battle, hexes flying from their wands and curses flying straight at them, he vaguely remembered a streak of green shooting toward him when everything went black...

"Remus?" A voice from across the room whispered, a warm ball of light giving away their location.

A ripple of wind whistled into the dark room causing him to shiver and the light danced, teetering toward extinction. "Hm?" He grunted struggling to pull himself up with clumsy, weak arms.

The person breathed a sigh and shuffled into the room. "Do you need help?" They asked and then the flame lifted up to their face and the werewolf has to hold back a gasp at the shadowed contours.  _It was mother._ But that could not be so, his mind whispered; she'd been dead for years and years.

"Mum?" He muttered, voice wavering between confusion and pain.

"It's alright my boy, I can help," she said to him, setting her lantern aside. She kneeled beside him and pulled a pair of pajamas from her cloak. She held out the shirt and commanded, "Come here child."

Remus listened and allowed her put his arms through the child length sleeves and found himself surprised when it fit. She then helped him up on his coltish legs and into his bottoms before picking Remus up and letting the werewolf cling to her as she put a hand in front of the lantern to keep the wind from extinguishing it.

In the morning dusk, they tromp across the patchy lawn he remembered from his childhood and into the homey kitchen colored yellow with splashes of orange. Taking him to the chipped and creaky kitchen table, she set him in a chair and glided over to the cupboard above the sink pulling out several potions and next to the fridge, where she took out a jug of chocolate milk. Swinging over to him, his mother's wispy blond hair plastered itself to her face as she puffed out a breath of air.

"Here baby, take the potions while I get you a cuppa," she told him and moved away to reach into the drying rack by the sink to bring up a washed cup for him. Remus ignored the potions in favor of staring at her in wonder;  _she's alive,_ in all her wispiness and early lines that mar her forehead far too soon.

When mother turned to find that he hasdn't taken the medicine like ordered, she put the glass down. Her brow's creases deepened further in worry and she knelt in front of Remus, holding up a finger, "Darling, how many fingers am I holding up?" She whispered.

The boy frowned, "Why-oh. I haven't got a concussion mum."

He sighed and to dispel her unnecessary fears, took the potion and chugged them down one by one under her careful gaze. Slamming the last bottle to the table, he wiped away the grimace and smiled up at her, "See mum?" Remus prompted.

She bit her lip and poured him a tall glass of chocolate milk. "I see," She agreed.

Knowing his mother was still unconvinced, Remus's shoulders dropped. "It's-It's just a bit disorienting sometimes, okay?" He explained.

His mother's brows raise a bit in surprise and then she chuckled, "Disorienting? Where did my little man learn this word?"

Remus glowed red and sipped at his milk.

"A book, I think," he muttered around his drink. Mother laughed again and her skin crinkled around her eyes in a way that was far too rare in the Lupin household; Remus found himself giggling soon after. In a moment of silliness, his mother's eyes alight and with a sudden swoop her fingers were tickling him beneath his arms. Remus squirmed and squealed while his mother laughed joyful. As they enjoy themselves, Remus vowed to himself,  _This time you'll be happy, I'll make sure of it._

* * *

In a pastel room dimmed by coming morning, a little girl with a head of fire, laid upon a bed of white frills and lace, tossed. Her relaxed face furrowed and tears started to leak from underneath her red-blond lashes as her features twisted into a horrifying mix of agony and terror. Suddenly, her body turned rigid; a breath later, like an arrow leaving its quiver the girl sprung up from her bed, a deafening scream unleashed from her rosebud lips.

At first, Lily hadn't a clue what was going on. All she knew was she was in her childhood bedroom, stuffed animals and books of fairy tales lining all available surfaces and her  _mother's_ arms engulf her entirely as she wailed and screamed.

"Mum, mum,  _mummy,_ " she sobbed into the soft curves as her fingers entwined in the woman's linen nightgown.

"Shhh..."Her mother soothed, petting her tangled hair and peppering kisses on her crown. "What's got you so worked up, hm?" Even admist the confusion, pain, anger, worry and sorrow, Lily understood she could not tell her mother anything. Not a sliver of the truth can leave her lips or she risked much more than she could ever regain.

Instead, she hiccuped and gazed up at her mother's tired, yet concerned face and whimpered, "Mummy it-t was  _the worst night-tmare ever_! I-I-everyone was  _dead!_ "

"Oh sweetheart..."Her mother sighed, squeezing her close and kissing her forehead, "It's just a dream, it's all over now."

Lily wanted to call her a liar, tell her she's wrong; but she couldn't. So, Lily did the next best thing, "Can I sleep with you and daddy for the rest of the night?" She had no interest in sleeping alone. Not after -  _everything._

Her mother smiled and maneuvered Lily onto her back with a great heaving grunt. "Just tonight, love," She said and Lily only clung tighter.

"Okay," She murmured. Mother and daughter fell silent as they shuffle into her mother and father's bedroom, Lily saw her father turn over in her parents' bed and gaze over at them with eyes little more than slits.

"Everything alright?" He mumbled.

Lily felt her mother smile against her hair, "Yes, just a nightmare Paul. I told Lily she could sleep with us for the rest of the night."

The girl's father snorted. "All of two hours," he yawned and then with a groan, flipped himself over making room for Lily to curl up in the middle. Her mother set Lily down and she scrambled under the sheets as her mother slipped in beside her.

"Night mummy and daddy," She muttered, closing her so very tired eyes.

"Goodnight, baby," Daddy said and the room descended into silence.

Lily gazed up at the ceiling as her parents sleep on either side of her. She didn't know what had happened to her; she didn't know if it was only her, she didn't know if this was real or if it was all a dream. At this point, Lily would be willing to bet her entire life from the moment of learning the truth of magic to her death trying to save her only son was all just a terrifyingly wonderful dream. With a frustrated sigh, she tried to think of someone she could go to and find out if the life she'd lived had been real or fake.

With sinking stomach and stab of guilt, she remembered a little boy she once called her best friend.

Adrenaline running low, Lily thought with a bit of trepidation if anyone can prove her right or wrong about what'd happened it was Severus Snape, and if he didn't remember like her? Then, maybe she could save him from the dark once and for all.

* * *

In a parallel scene only streets away from the little girl, a little boy with eyes of the night sky startled awake to the enclosing sunrise with a strained gasp leaving his parted mouth. Severus Snape sat up and his hand came to clamp around his whole neck; he released a shaky exhale of relief at the finding. Eyes darting about the sparse gray room he tried to puzzle out just where he was. In a matter of seconds, fear funneled into his gut as he realized he was back at Spinner's End in his childhood bedroom. With gasping breaths he waited for the sound of creaking floors and lumbering steps that always came with these night terrors, but none come.

Confused, the black-haired boy frowned and pinched his arm. Nothing. This only pulled his frown even further down, disliking the disorientation he felt, Severus tumbled out of bed and realized he's the child he once was instead of the man he was now. "No..." He whispered, this wasn't -  _couldn't_ \- be a dream then! In desperation, he called for his magic and was frightened when he found that it was lacking and not nearly as disciplined as it had been only hours before. With a quiet whimper, he begged for this all to be a some curse. Quivering, he forced himself to pace his room until he's spent away enough of the unease for him not to shake any longer and with a resolve of a man possessed, he opened his door and tip-toed to the bedroom his parents share.

Pattering down the black hall, he paused at the door in uncertainty, if this was real, he did not want to wake his father by accident and end up on the wrong side of his belt. But...he had to know. So, without a second thought, he twisted the tarnished knob and peered through the crack to see his mother's dark hair cascading off the bed on one side and his father's lanky arm hanging over the edge of the other. Heart beating rapidly, Severus pulled the door closed again and stifled a scream. This was no time to become irrational or daft with his fright, instead, Severus deliberately strode back to his room and trudged through his closet for a pair of shoes, after sifting through a pile of clothes Severus found a set of raggedy tennis shoes a size too small. Tugging them on, he left his room.

He didn't know if he was the only one, but he planned to find out. His first stop will be the spot by the creek where he and Lily met every morning throughout their summers together, heading down the stairs he skipped over the creaky steps and slipped out the back door with its broken lock and into the forest behind his home. Gliding through the woods, Severus took little notice of the still dark sky, all of his focus on seeking out answers and if he was to admit it, giddiness at the thought of seeing Lily after so many years.

Coming to their spot, Severus marveled at the turn of events, he would have never guessed  _this_ a possibility for his afterlife.


	2. We Found Each Other Like a Mirror

Lily wakes in a rumpled bed, sun shinning bright on her eyelids. Sitting up, her red mane falls about her imitating a flickering blaze. Blinking away the Sandman's dust, Lily remembers the night before in flashes, her lips curl unpleasantly. Not a dream then, she notes. Deciding she cannot waste the day, she stretches both arms above her head and yawns before making her way out of bed and back to her bedroom to change. In the almost foreign bedroom of pastels and childish whimsies, Lily searches the closet for a suitable outfit. With a scowl she realizes the majority is made of dresses and what isn't dresses is skirts and blouses. Sighing, she tugs down a yellow summer dress and shrugs off her bed-clothes as she pulls the yellow outfit over her head. Leaving her room, a revelation overcomes her. Severus. She needs to find him, surely he can help her. Lily rushes down the hall, but her escape out the front door is stopped by her father, who's picking up his briefcase and fixing his tie in the hall mirror before he leaves.

"'scue me daddy." She murmurs trying to get around him.

"Did you even have breakfast yet Lil?" Her father asks instead casting her a curious glance.

"Yes." She fibs smoothly, but then her mother steps into the hall; pair of glasses in hand.

"You forgot these Paul." She says handing them off and it's at that moment she chooses to glance down and notice Lily trying to slip out.

The woman raises an eyebrow at her and says. "Where do you think you're going missy?"

Lily frowns. "Out." She states.

Her mother only manages to look even less pleased. "I don't think so. First you will have breakfast and then you will help me with the dishes and watering the house plants." She commands and Lily can only pout.

"Fine mummy." She grumbles. Her mother gives a nod and turns away disappearing back into the adjacent kitchen.

"Bye lily." Her father says, ruffling her tangled hair.

"Bye dad." Lily sighs watching him close the door behind him.

"Breakfast Lily!" Her mother calls and with an aggravated heave trudges into the kitchen. She looks up from the linoleum flooring to see Petunia sneering at her over her porridge. Lily glowers as she takes her seat beside her dour sister and picks up a piece of toast set upon a plate in the middle of the round table.

"Freak." Her sister hisses. Lily has to stop herself from groaning, not _this_ again!

* * *

Lily sneaks out the backdoor when her mother's not watching and 'Tuney's distracted by a phone call. When she manages to close the door with little more than a whisper the redhead does a victory dance before racing off down the street a joyful whoop bursting from her. _Finally_! She thinks, but then she feels bad and her running slows to a trot. She shouldn't feel so happy to be away from Mum and dad and Petunia, especially since two of them died only a couple of years ago and the other was as good as dead. Yet...their prescences are smothering and uncomfortable; she's forgotten how snippy Petunia truly was-is-, how mother kept her at the house with silly chores to stop her from finding or making trouble and _dad_! Gone at sun up and not back until sun down, she recalled as he left this morning toast half-shoved in his mouth and briefcase in hand.

With an irritable sigh, she takes a sharp turn on Louise Street swinging herself on to Spinner's end. Lagging to a stroll she walks down the increasingly decrepit block to a shabby park. Passing straight through, she plucks the chain of a swing and briefly a smile rises on her lips before settling into a frown. _Oh Severus..._ she laminates. She almost loses her resolve at the thought the boy who had so much to prove, but so little guidance. Coming to a stop, she bites down on her lip and brings a freckled arm to wipe away the tears accumulating in the corner of her eyes; _Severus..._ he was just the first little boy she failed and, now, her own son was a part of that short, but oh so heart crippling list.

Sniffling back a wave of tears, Lily tells herself to quit being an emotional wreck and find a way back to her time to save any other children from becoming a name on that list. With hands pulled into fists, she strides into the gnarled woods behind the park and lets old memories guide her to a spot of gay and airy childhood memories. Flitting around dry branches and prickly vines of berries she sloshed through decaying leaves to a small clearing by a creek. Lily startles back at what she sees, its _Severus_. At her ill-timed gasp, the boy jerks from his obvious brooding and twists his head to see her. At the sight of his pale face with dark smudges beneath his endless black eyes, the fading yellow of bruises blotting his skin and lank dark hair surrounding it; Lily feels her chest ache in sympathy and knowing. She understands now, just how terrifying, how horrible, how _important_ his early childhood was to what he became and Lily swears to herself if he isn't like her she will guide him away from this dark world and to the _light._

Neither child says a word as they digest one another, it's when the silence begins to turn awkward that Lily scrabble for some sort of veiled message that she is sure a grown Severus would be able to see through. Grasping at the first thought that comes to mind, Lily blurts. "You're right, Petunia's a prick and always will be."

Severus blinks and then the tension drains from his shoulders and replaces it with lucidity as he brings himself to his feet. "Bravo" He snarks, "It only took you _years_ to figure it out." The child drawls. But Lily hardly gives the sharp words any attention, finding the language frightfully disconcerting coming from a scrawny boy with the growl of a kitten.

She scrunched her brow and implores hesitantly. "Sev?"

The boy's face morphs into a bitter glare. "I think we're a bit old to be using nicknames, don't you?" He bites out.

Lily frowns and looks to the ground. "How old were you?" She asks her voice sounding tiny and just as young as she looks.

He kicks at the dirt and a hand comes to his throat, but he doesn't answer. Lily makes to ask again when he mumbles. "Thirty eight."

Lily nods at this and offers in condolences. "It was older than me, but I bet you knew that didn't you?" She says.

Severus grunts and lifts his head to gaze at her, his eyes flit between nostalgie, bitterness and something she can't name. "He had your eyes." Severus says quietly.

Lily's mouth dropped open. "He-Harry? Oh he _lived_?!" She cries out and in a sudden fit of relieved and joyous tears jumps the little boy in front of her and cries hotly into his shoulder choking out thank yous as she sobs. Severus is stiff and rigid against her at first, but eventually warms up enough to relax and lay a soothing hand against her back. His weight does more than soothe at that moment, it rekindles a relationship she thought lost forever and brings back an intense longing she'd burried away when she married James. _How she missed him_ _!_ She realizes.

"He was alive up until my death, that much I know." He explains quietly when her tears begin to subside. Lily laughs (but it leaves her wondering, up until his death? _What's that mean_ _?!_ ) and hugs her friend closer.

" _Thank you Sev._ " She murmurs.

He averts his eyes and mutters. "It was the least I could do."

Lily grins up at him. "Your least is above and beyond." She says, this seems to startle Severus and his mouth flickers in a wiry smirk.

"I think a number of people would disagree Lily." He says to her.

Lily tosses her head back and barks a laugh. "They don't know what they're talking about." Both of them chuckle and fall into silence for a beat. Severus casts several flickering looks of uncertainty, before taking up her hands in his own.

"I'm sorry, for everything." He whispers earnest and true, shadow eyes begging for her to forgive him; (she already has).

Lily nods her head and lifts her wobbly lips into a smile. "I am too, I was a right bitch when I told you in fith year I was done with you." She sighs.

Severus shakes his head. "I deserved it."

"No one deserves to lose a friend over a silly name." She disagrees.

His eyes narrow and he growls. "Never say that, it's not a _silly_ name; it's a name that starts _wars_." Lily's emerald eyes go wide and she gapes at the intensity of her best friend's conviction, she wonders at that moment if this little boy is the Severus she loved, (or the one she always hoped he could be).

"Okay." She breathes, Severus searches her face before nodding his head in acceptance. They fade into silence for the last time and Lily takes the length to gaze about this little sanctuary she and Severus created as children. It's a pretty spot, with long grass and spring-green leaves drooping overhead to keep the glaring sunlight off them; her stare then fall to the crook where their reflection stares back at her. In it, Lily and Severus are side by side hands linked together. She grins at the image, after so long she finally has her best friend back. Yet, the smile's tinged with a sadness; there is no saving this boy, he's committed his crimes and is facing the consequences of them with every rise and fall of his chest.


	3. Learn from your Mother or else Spend your Days Biting your own Neck

It's the catch of breath in the calmness of the spot that tares Severus from his brooding. Flinching, he turns to see a young Lily staring open mouth at him. She's just as he remembered; pale freckled skin, glossy red hair and beautiful emerald eyes. He's silent as he drinks her in and as she no doubt does the same. Soon the silence fades from observation to embarrassment, Severus wants to ask her if she remembers what he called her; but...he can't bare the thought of making her relive the memory or the idea that he would have to explain it to her. Luckily for him, Lily is the first to speak.

"You're right, a Petunia's a prick and always will be." She says to him and Severus can't help but roll his eyes. _For the love of_ -he shakes his head, at least she didn't spend half her life trying to chase after someone who didn't want anything to do with her, (she's always been better at letting go of people, not like him).

As he pushes himself to his feet, Severus releases the tension from his body and sneers. "Bravo," taking a step closer he drawls. "It only took you _years_ to figure it out." Lily doesn't say anything about his biting tone, nor does she seem to register it and it's at that second Severus wonders if he was wrong, _maybe she doesn't remember..._ Then the girl's brow furrows and she gazes strangely at him.

"Sev?" She almost questions, seemingly uncertain of his reaction.

Severus crosses his arms and glares at her. She has no right to call him those ridiculous nicknames anymore, they aren't _friends._ "I think we're a bit old to be using nicknames, don't you?" He growls.

He watches Lily frown and casts her gaze down, playing with the hem of her cheery yellow dress she asks, "How old were you?" and it's in such a small voice that it pains Severus just to hear it.

Severus scowl darkens and he kicks angrily at the dirt and without even noticing, a single hand comes to grasp his whole neck. "Thirty eight." The boy grumbles.

Lily's eyes glassen with sadness, "It was older than me, but I bet you knew that didn't you?" She comments, (apologizing in so many words really). Severus huffs and sneaks his gaze up to look at her. It's so strange to see her so close and _alive_ , but even now she's no longer his. Suddenly, a pair of green eyes shaded by a dark fringe comes to mind; the boy truly had her eyes...

"He had your eyes." Severus confides in her.

Lily's own eyes go impossibly wide and her petal pink lips drop open into a little 'o', Severus startles at the sight of tears beginning to track down her cheeks and when she tackles him into a hug wailing; "He-Harry? Oh he _lived_?!" As she sobs into Severus's shoulder he slowly, deliberately relaxes and puts a single comforting hand on her narrow back. A wave of warmth spreads through him and he comes to wonder if his friendship with Lily is truly dead and gone after all.

When her cries start to taper off, Severus moves his hand away and whispers to her, voice hoarse. "He was alive up until my death, that much I know." How he wishes he could tell her that her son-the last bit of Lily in all the world-had been hale and whole at the very end; ( _but he cannot, he won't lie to her)._

_"Thank you Sev."_ She mumbles into his neck, tickling it with her warm breath.

Severus avert's his dark eyes and grunts. "It was the least I could do." ( _Oh how he wishes it was, yet it wasn't; it was hardly adequate to make up for her life, for_ all _the lives he ruined_ ).

Lily lifts her head away and juts her chin out grinning up at him, it confounds Severus to no end. "Your least is above and beyond." She says to him and Severus's mouth parts in shock, beats later it twists into a mocking smirk. _Only you would believe that..._ He thinks.

"I think a number of people would disagree Lily." Severus notes.

Lily's head falls back, her hair cascading across his lap in a woosh of fire and a miffed, disbelieving laugh bubbles up from her mouth. "They don't know what they're talking about." She counters and it causes them both to chuckle. They are quiet for a moment, comfortable to just reorient themselves to their friendship when Severus is drawn back to reality.

Casting a glance at his hands, he imagines them covered in blood; _her_ blood. Then flickering his stare to her he nervously takes both her hands in his and whispers fervently. "I'm sorry, for everything."

Lily's eyes dappled with empathy and she nods her head. "I am too, I was a right bitch when I told you in fifth year I was done with you." She sighs, a weak smile resting on her lips.

Severus shakes his head causing his limp black hair to slap across his sallow face. "I deserved it." He tells her.

"No one deserves to lose a friend over a silly name." She argues hotly.

Severus grits his teeth as his eyes narrow. "Never say that, it's not a _silly_ name; it's a name that starts _wars_." He snarls and Lily's emerald orbs grow large at his harsh language.

"Okay." She nearly mouths, clearly uncomfortable. Severus accepts this with an assent of his head and allows everything to fall into quiet. They sit there hands grasped tightly for hours, until the sun is high in the sky and Lily begins to move once more. She casts a nervous sideways glance at him before releasing his hand, (Severus's hand is cold without hers). "I gotta go." She explains to him. "Mums got to be wondering where I've gone." And then her face blanks. "That's so weird to say." She mutters, slender fingers fluffing her wild red locks "I haven't had to worry over any curfews in _years._ "

Severus snorts. "A privelage of the young." He snarks.

Lily giggles, but cuts it off quickly sending him an anxious stare before heaving out in breath of air. "I'll be back tomorrow, okay? We can figure out what to do then." Lily leans down to plant a good-bye kiss on his cheek. Her face blooms red at the realization of what she's done and then the nine-year old darts out of the clearing yelling over her shoulder. "I'll bring a snack for us too, alright!?"

Severus doesn't answer too stunned by the peck and by the time he reigns in his emotions, Lily's long gone. Glowering down at his reflection in the crook's water, Severus notices with a bit of trepidation clouds are starting to gather in the horizon. _What to do.._ He wonders, Severus has little interest in returning home, but where else is he to go? Too young to stay anywhere else and with a darkening scowls also realizes he can't hide out in the library without someone wondering where his mother or father is. Severus stays rigid in his spot until early evening when the clouds finally decided to release their burden. As the rain pours, Severus scuttles up on his feet and runs through the woods back to his childhood home.

Bursting in to the house, his mother doesn't look away from the pot on the stove. "Where were you all day, young man?" She demands.

Severus frowns. "Out." He snips.

"Watch it Severus Tobias Snape, I will not tolerate that tone." She hisses, her coal colored eyes finally trained on him.

Severus thoroughly chastised, drops his gaze to his toes and mumbles. "Sorry mum."

The woman nods, accepting the apology. "Go change love." She tells the child, voice a bit gentler.

"Yes mum." Severus answers, rushing off into the hall and to his room. Struggling out of the dripping clothes, Severus walks over to his closet and finds a new set of clothes to put on. As he buttons up his shirt, the front door clatters opens. Severus's stomach lurches in a way that it hasn't since he was a young boy and his skin begins to perspire with fear, taking a ragged breath; Severus forces the feelings down with the sheer power of will.

A chair in the kitchen scrapes across the tiles. "Oi! Where's my dinner!?" His father yells and Severus jumps.

"Right here Tobias." His mother's strained voice warbles, followed by the clack of a dish being set on the table. His father's voice growls something Severus can't catch, when his mother answers. "He's here, I sent him to change a minute ago." Severus hears his mother move away from the kitchen and down the hall, looking away from his closet he sees her standing in the hall.

"Come have dinner Severus." His mother orders him.

"I'll be there in a minute." He whispers and his mother accepts this with a nod. After his mother's disappeared from view, the boy takes a shaky breath and forces his mind to empty of all irrelevant emotions, (it doesn't work nearly as well as it had when he was grown.) Coming into the kitchen, he slips into a chair and gazes down at his soup.

His father's red eyes focus on him as he snarls. "I paid good money for that food." Severus picks up his spoon and moves to take up some, but his stomach rolls and his mouth goes dry. "Eat!" His father screams at him slamming his hands on the table, Severus flinches and in the process drops his spoon. "You little brat! Think you're too good for it, huh?" His father roars reaching over and slapping the boy. Severus tumbles from his seat and to the ground curling into a ball.

"Tobias!" His mother shouts. "Stop!" She begs throwing herself at her husband.

"Get off ya bitch!" The lanky man hollers shoving his wife to the floor, his mother shrieks digging her nails into his arm and father retaliates by kicking her in the side. "Goddamnit Eileen!" His father yells at her, while he tries to shake her off.

Severus, unfurling from his ball, gathers every bit of courage he's earned through the years and rushes at his father; shocking him enough to release his mother. "Stop!" Severus cries. Tobias's fist cuffs Severus's eye, and the child stumbles as he turns to face his sobbing mother. "We don't have to put up with this mother! Why can't we leave?" He pleads.

His mother's scared eyes find him and a hand decorated in hues of purples, blues, blacks and yellows comes to her mouth holding back a particularly loud sob. "He's my _husband_! I can't just _l-leave_!" She gasps, Severus feels tears leak from his eyes. (Why, why, _why?)_

"Tryin' to turn my wife on me, are ya?" His father growls and Severus freezes, utterly and wholly terrified. "I'll show ya what happens to lil'traitors like ya!" His father thunders. It's before Severus can make a move that his father's large hand wraps around his skinny arm trapping him.

Bucking at his father's grip for all his worth, Severus begins to scream for his mother. "Mum! _Mum!_ " But his mother stays on the floor, silent tears falling endlessly from her eyes. "Help me!" Severus wails. The haggard woman shakes her head and closes her eyes as her husband drags her only son from the room. " _MUM!_ " Severus screams, but she doesn't come to his call as Tobias begins to beat their son with his belt, nor when his cries reach volumes unprecedented. Severus fights against every lashing, valiantly trying to dredge up any magic. It's when he fears his father's belt will never stop that his magic ( _finally_ ) heads his command, it whips out hitting his father square in the chest and giving Severus enough energy to run from his house and carry him all the way down the street and to Lily's home.

Coming to a breathless halt at her front porch, Severus's inside begin to twist. _What if..._ she doesn't answer the door? What if she doesn't _want_ him here? The dark eyed boy almost turns back around, but then he recalls his father's murderous face as his magic hit him; Severus's knees shake. He _can't_ go back, not tonight, not _ever._ Gathering up his resolve, he walks up the cleanly swept steps and across the immaculately white porch boards and knocks on the rich green door.

"I got it!" A voice shouts, _Lily_ , his heart hammers and a second later, he sees Lily's lovely face staring at him.

"Severus?" She whispers eyes huge in confusion and the boy tries to give a little smile, but it ends up being more a cringe than anything else. Stepping out on to the porch, Lily's hand reaches out brushing a fingers across his chin. Severus twists away, wincing at the pain. Her face deathly pale and eyes horrorfyingly large she murmurs. "What happened?" Holding out fingers smeared red with blood.

Severus-for all his years of spying and learning to control every bit of him that could give his role away-can't stop himself from crying silently as he stammers. "S-She didn't _do_ anything-" and without hesitation, Lily's short arms shoot out and enclose around him, allowing Severus to hide his face against her shoulder as he tries to hold back his sobs, fearing if he doesn't, he'll _never_ stop.

(Un)surprisingly, Lily's mother comes to see what the commotion is, she falls against the door frame with a caught breath and a woozy, "Oh my..."

Stepping away from Severus, one of his hands confidently gripped in hers, Lily sticks her chin out stubbornly. "This is my friend Severus, he's staying over tonight." She tells her mother.

Her mother nods. "Let me tell your father." She whispers stepping into the house.

A muffled argument starts somewhere in the home and Severus glances at Lily. "I can always-"

"No." Lily cuts in. "You're staying." She orders.

The raised voices quiet and in an instant Lily's stern father stands in the glow of the entrance. Paul's eyes become the size of plates as he gapes. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph." He whispers.

"Severus can sleep with me can't he?" Lily demands, glaring steadily up at her father.

"He can stay for as long as he wants." Her father answers readily.

Severus, with what little pride he has left lies blatantly to Lily's father. "I need only tonight, he'll calm down enough for me to go home tomorrow." The man's face is doubtful, but he tilts his head in understanding.

"Julie can help you clean up." He offers, stepping aside allowing Lily _and_ Severus to pass the threshold.

Stepping into the home's warm atmosphere, Severus feels all of his physical nine years and none of his true thirty-eight as he mumbles to Paul embarrassed, "I can manage on my own." The man's face stays blank as he nods.

"C'mon Sev, this way." Lily ushers, bringing him to the bathroom. Julie stands by the door, an old dress shirt of Paul's in hand along with a towel and a first-aid kit.

"Here you are." She says handing them off. Severus takes them with a meek thank you and hurries into the washroom. Closing the door, Severus slides down against the door allowing it to hold his raw back up as he chokes back another round of crying. He can't do this, not now. Resolving to weep no more, Severus pulls himself up on his wobbly legs and walks over to the sink and in the mirror sees his reflection.

"Fuck." He whispers gazing at his face, it's a mess; blood drips down his chin from his split lip and more gushes from a wound on his forehead while one of his shadowed eyes squint ever so slighty from the deep purple ring of swelling that surrounds it. Opening his mouth, he's not surprised to find that a tooth is missing; _I hope it's not a mature one..._ Turning on the tap, Severus begins to splash water on his face and manages to sooth his black eye some. When he finishes, he watches entranced as the water turned pink from his crimson blood washes down the drain. If the blood from his face causes the water to become pink, he doesn't even want to consider what his back will do to the water.

Taking up a towel, he pats his face dry and then cracks open the practically new first-aid kit, bandaging up his injuries before he sheds his sullied clothes. Throwing them all into a pile in the corner of the bathroom, he twists around to catch a glimpse of his bare back in the mirror and is relieved to find the majority of the welts covering it are no longer bleeding and only a few look deep. Deciding his back can wait until a later day, Severus fumbles with the buttons of Paul's shirt before getting it on and redoing the buttons. Once he's finished in the bathroom, he slips out to find Lily waiting against the wall. She scrambles up on her feet and gives him her hand. "Mum said you could sleep in my bed." She explains dragging him down the hall to her room. In the softly colored room, they find Lily's mother smoothing down the hair of a doll in the middle of the bed, her eyes rimmed red.

"Lily!" She exclaims, rising up from the bed.

"It's my room mum." Lily states logically, gently guiding Severus's slimmer form behind her. Julie blinks and then smiles ever so slightly.

"It is, isn't it?" She mumbles, her mother shifts away and pulls the sheets back inviting her daughter and her friend to get in. Leading them to the bed, Lily crawls in; not once letting go of Severus's hand. Lily's mother situated the sheets evenly over them and she then leans down planting a warm kiss on Lily's forehead. "Night love." She breathes.

"Night." Lily chirps. As Lily's mother straightens, her hand hesitantly comes to brush a dirty lock from Severus's face.

"Goodnight." She says to him, Severus nods his head in acknowledgement. She stands their gazing at the two children and then with a small shake of her head walks away turning off the lights as she leaves the room.

"Mum!" Lily yells.

"Hm?" Her mother questions, standing in the doorway poised to close the door.

"Can you leave it a crack?" She whines.

Julie gives an unreadable smile and mutters. "Of course love" and she does.

When the house has settled around them, her parents hushed discussion in the other room has died away to silence and only the sound of Petunia's faint snores can be heard Severus turns his head and whispers to Lily. "Thank you."

Her eyes are closed, yet she speaks. "Always, Sev, Always."


	4. I can't sit Idly, no, I can't Move at all

A bony finger prods Sirius into the world of wakefulness and away from his land of horrifyingly wonderful dreams, dreams of _peace._ If there is one thing Sirius knows, no matter how much he may wish it or dream of it; peace, is not an achievable dream for a man (boy) born with the instinct to rebel. Putting his dreams away, Sirius turns his head to catch an earful of his younger brother's soft snores as he gazes over at Kreacher. "What?" He grunts around a yawn.

"Missus an' Master Black wants the little masters to dines with them." He explains blandly and disappears from the room with a sound pop. Sirius groans and flops over, accidentally jarring Regulus with his movement.

"S'rius?" His brother slurs, blinking rapidly at up at him.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Sirius says to his brother; "Get up, mother and father wish for you to _dine_ with them." He finishes with a sneer his brother cannot even see.

"Alright." Regulus murmurs with a sleepy sigh as he crawls out of the bed.

Sirius watches his younger brother rub a hand down his face with something akin to wonder. "You know, you should go get changed; mother and father don't like it when we don't come down dressed." He comments walking over to his own closet in the process.

The younger boy's face twists strangely at these words and out from his mouth spills; "But-" He stops himself with a click of his teeth and gazes down at the ground instead.

Throwing his sleep clothes on the ground in a wrinkled heap, Sirius contemplates them for a beat before he nods his head in satisfaction. Yes, best to piss his parents off in every way he can; even if _he_ doesn't like lined clothes either. "What's it Reg?" He asks finally, when it becomes obvious his baby brother is lingering for a reason.

"I thought father said you wouldn't be getting breakfast this morning." He whispers in a small voice, head ducking down to hide his reddening cheeks.

"Yeah, so? He probably wants to rub you all eating in my face." Sirius replies nonchalant. Then, gray eyes sparkling with bellied laughter he continues;"I'll just knick something from the kitchen when the elves aren't watching." Regulus answers back with a stricken look, sighing, Sirius steps forward clapping a strong hand on his little brother's shoulder. "Don't worry baby brother, I did it all the time." He winks with a mischievous grin.

Regulus gazes back doubtful, yet nevertheless nods agreeably. "Okay." He mutters.

Sirius chuckles. "Good." The older boy then steers Regulus towards the bedroom door and tells him; "Go get dressed! I'll see you in five!"

Regulus twists his neck and cries out. "Wait! When'll we talk? We _have_ to!"

Strolling over to his closet, Sirius's fingers flitting through the fabric of his predominantly black and gray clothing."Later, after breakfast." Sirius dismisses, gaze not wavering from his choices.

Regulus stares over at his brother and his shoulders slump. "Okay" he exhales. Sirius doesn't turn away from his closet even when the footfall of his brother hesitates to begin.

* * *

When Sirius finds himself gazing at the long table in the elaborate, yet almost empty, dining room he frowns. _What a waste; a dining room like this would be better suited to the Weasleys-_ anyone _with a family larger than ours-_ he grumbles to himself. Sirius meanders to his empty spot at the table, it's not until he lets out a cough as he slithers into his seat that father glances up from his newspaper, mother from reading a letter from her brother and Regulus from plucking at his breakfast of toast.

Giving the newspaper a jerk to realign it his father tells him with a scowl. "I told you not to expect breakfast."

"I remember." Sirius agrees amicably casting his stare sideways at his brother, Regulus flushes and sets down the piece of toast he was about to bite.

His father's frown deepens and he growls at Sirius. "Do not do it again or you'll be missing more than breakfast."

With a bob of his head, Sirius murmurs. "Yes father." A moment later he begins to fidget and asks, "May I be excused father?"

"Yes." His father grunts bringing his paper back up to read.

Scrambling up from his seat, Regulus begs. "May I be too, father?"

"Yes Regulus." The man lowers his paper a tad, watching his two sons hurry out of the room; just before they are in the hall he calls. "What is it you two are up to?"

The young boys glance at each other. "We are going to the library father." Regulus pipes up, a tiny smile toying on his lips.

Suspicions fully activated the Black puts his paper down and raises an eyebrow. "Sirius? In the _library_? Now, that must be quite the sight." His elder son bares his teeth in a fashion not unlike a dog, but Orion Black isn't surprised. "Whatever you two are planning, it stops now." He orders and with that disappears behind his paper one last time, feeling his warning received.

"Yes father." The two accept in tandem.

"Go." Orion grunts and the children scatter.

* * *

"Why are we in the library?" Sirius whines, clambering over his armchair to gaze over the top at his brother who's running his fingers along the spines of books on one of the lower shelves.

"We have least a thousand books here, if not _more-_ " He pauses abruptly, his fingers dancing up the binding of a leather-bound tome before he pulls it from the shelf. "There has to be _something_ in here that can help us."

Sirius gives his brother a question look. "With _what_?" He pouts.

Gesturing at himself and next at his brother with a flourish Regulus squeaks. "With _this_!" Face a cherry red he rants. "Do you _like_ this? Do you _like_ being a child? Being here with _mother_ and _father_?!"

Sirius blinks at his brother's uncharacteristic display of open anger and then with a lazy smile pulls himself up onto the back of the armchair and jumps. "Calm down. It's not so bad, we'll figure it out eventually." He says to his brother, thumping him soundly on the back.

The heavy tome in Regulus's hands falls and the cover flops open to reveal the first page with a name penned across it; _Andromeda Black_. Both boys gaze at the signature in silence.

A couple of minutes of silence later, Regulus whispers. "Do you think anyone else remembers?" He then lifts his gaze to catch a glimpse of his elder brother's unusually solemn face.

It quickly falls away and he replaces it with a cheery grin. "No way to find out without asking." His brother chirps.

Regulus frowns. "How are we going to do that? It's not like we can write them a letter asking 'hey do you remember being an adult?'" He grumbles crossing his arms.

"I know that!" Sirius snaps, face furrowed in an angry sneer. When he realizes his younger brother is cowering, he relaxes his features and reaches over ruffling Reg's hair and offers. "We write them a letter, a letter that invites them _all_ to tea."

"Even Bellatrix?" Regulus whispers unsure.

With a resolute nod, Sirius answers. "Yes, even Bellatrix."

Regulus cringes. "But she's..."

"Bonkers. I know." Sirius sighs.

"Was she still? Even after I died?"

Sirius hums his agreement and then adds. "Even more so after Azkaban."

Regulus's eyes become the size of saucers. " _Azkaban_?" He whispers completely speechless.

"Uh-huh, a lot of Death-eaters ended up their for a while." Sirius explains.

Regulus whistles lowly and murmurs. "Wow, I wish I could have been around."

Sirius cringes. "No, no you don't baby brother." He disagrees adamantly. His brother gives him a confused look, but knows better than to ask, (and for that Sirius is grateful). "Do you want to write the letter? Or should I?" Sirius implores walking away from his brother to grab a piece of parchment from the desk in the middle of the room.

"You can, but we should both sign it." Regulus replies easily trotting after the older boy.

Scratching out a quick message, Sirius then signed his name with flourish before stepping away allowing his younger brother access to the letter.

_Dear Andromeda, Narcissa, and Bellatrix,_

_We would like to invite you to tea this afternoon._

_Sirius and_

"Way to be blunt." Reg mutters and with a sigh he takes the quill from Sirius and spells out his own name. "Kreacher." He calls once he's folded the letter up.

The elf appears and gazes up at the two children. "Yes little masters?"

"I want you to give one of the owls this; tell them it's for Andromeda, Narcissa and Bellatrix." He explains to the house-elf, handing over the parchment.

Taking the letter, he brings it close to his body and bows. "Of course little master."

"Thanks." Regulus whispers with an upturn quirk of his lips, the elf's eyes glow happily as he apparates from the room. They stand side by side not speaking for several minutes before Sirius begins to pace.

"I hope they write back soon." He grumbles.

"I'm sure they will." Regulus soothes.

His brother's eyes lock on him and Reg finds himself beginning to sweat at the madness he sees lurking in them. "I'm _sick_ of waiting." His brother snarls.

"Impatience has only ever brought you misfortune. I'd have thought you know that by now." Regulus sighs, because he is _absolutely_ certain his brother lived far longer than he did, (and quite possibly his end more damning than his own).

His brother gives the younger Black a sharp (bitter) smirk. "Some people never learn Reg."

Strutting over to Sirius, He gazes up at his brother's face and tells him "It's never too late."

Sirius ignores his suggestion and twitches with pent-up breath, he grumbles. "I can't just _sit_ here."

"We can't move forward untill we know if they can remember like we do." Regulus counters, gently pushing his elder brother into the armchair he abandoned earlier.

Letting Reg shove him back into the chair, Sirius sighs and blinks. He's _so_ tired, he just wants to sleep and never wake up again. ( _Why did this happen? Why couldn't fate, god,_ whoever _, let him_ alone _?_ ) "I'm _tired._ " He whispers.

Regulus, with strained gray eyes nods. "We all are." He mutters.

"How do you know?" Sirius argues, fighting to stay awake.

"Who _isn't_ tired during war?" His brother inquires, a faint-almost amused-grin on his lips.

Sirius barks a laugh. "I don't know."

"The dead."Regulus utters.

Sirius frowns and squirms in his seat, uncomfortable. "We _are_ dead." He mumbles, and then he shifts his gaze to dart about the room. "Aren't we?" He asks after a pause.

"Supposedly, but I guess we aren't anymore." Regulus answers with a shrug.

"This _can't_ be real" Sirius groans.

"Then what is real?." The younger boy mutters.

"I don't know." Sirius moans tossing an arm over his eyes, they talk no more.


	5. Black House will Rock

A flutter of feathers draws Narcissa away from the letter she was writing and crumpled pile scrapped parchment beside it, holding out her hand the owl lands and drops a letter in her upturned palm. Putting the simply folded letter on her desk, Narcissa scratches the owl's head and coos "Thank you lovely." The owl trills happily before leaving her in a burst of energy. Smiling, the twelve-year-old turns back to her desk; her brow furrows then as her eyes dart between her own letter and the one waiting for her. With a dissatisfied sigh, she decides her own can wait a moment (maybe longer) as she opens the letter she received.

Dear Andromeda, Narcissa, and Bellatrix,

We would like to invite you to tea this afternoon.

Sirius and Regulus

Narcissa frowns, strange...neither of her cousins growing up had ever taken much interest in their older, female cousins. Trying to puzzle out what this possibly means, a thought comes to the blond. What if they-With a clatter she rockets from her chair knocking it to the floor, but she ignores it as she runs from her room shouting "Bella! Andy!" Between tears and laughter she cries "Come quick!" In an instant both of her sisters darkheads are peering out of their respective rooms.

"What is it 'cissa?" Andromeda implores, her face a blotchy red.

"I think-" She starts, but stops gasping for a breath in between her panting. "I think our cousins are like us." She finishes in a whisper voice exuberant and hopeful.

"Bully for them!" Andromeda sneers, one hand on hip. "Good to know the brat and idiot have been gifted with memories of the future! Because they so deserve to remember!" She yells and wish a swish of her skirt her bedroom door slams and Bellatrix and Narcissa are left staring open mouth at the door that seperates them from their sister. The letter fluttering from her fingers, Narcissa comes to stand in front of her older sisters door. Knocking, she leans against the mahogany and exhales.

"Andy? What happened?" Narcissa pleads, kneading her knuckles against the door she implores "Won't you let us in? Me?"

Bellatrix's heels clip against the floor as she walks over to the abandoned letter and picks it up. Glancing at the single question she turns to her baby sister and says softly. "Shall I tell them today's not a good day?" Narcissa stares at Bellatrix like she's a riddle she can't figure out.

"I can't ever remember you being nice." She tells her older sister.

Bellatrix shrugs. "Mother and father took me to visit him once a year from eleven onwards." She explains and after a pause she continues "Until I was willing to join his cause by my own will." A bitter smile flits across her features then. "It wasn't my choice by that point, it was me picking to stop the pain and turn it on to someone else."

Narcissa gazes at her sister. "Why did mother and father do that to you?"

Bellatrix shakes her head causing her mane of curls to fly. "Why does anyone do anything?" She exhales. Her fingers curl around the letter causing it to crinkle, startled her stare snaps back to the letter in her hand. "I think I shall go write them back." She says slowly, "If I remember right, I'm sure Sirius is impatient; I wouldn't put it past him to send a Howler to get our attention."

Narcissa barks a laugh. "Yes, you're probably right." And with one last smile, Bella disappears to her room once again.

A stifled sob sounds from behind the door and Narcissa groans. Knocking for a third time she calls. "Andromeda?" No answer. "Won't you let me in?"

"No!" A voice yells.

Hands planting themselves on her waist, Narcissa sucks in an irritated breath. "I'm not doing this Andy! We aren't doing this!" She shouts, "Let me in or I'll let myself in!" When all she gets is the sound of pitiful sniffling, Narcissa whips out her wand and casts an opening charm on the door.

"You can't do that!" Andromeda shrieks.

"I can too and I did." Narcissa smirks.

Picking up her pillow, Andromeda flings it at her younger sister. "Get OUT!" She roars. The blond winces at the impact when she refuses to dodge, but it's at moment like these that she's thankful her mother and father rarely come with in fifty feet of their wing; it saved them from trouble on several occasions.

Fitting her jaw into stubborn set, Narcissa gives a shakes her head causing the pony-tail she pulled her hair into to swish. "Not until you tell me what's wrong."

Andromeda's eyes water and in a fit of tears she points over at her desk.

Stalking over to the table in the corner, Narcissa notices a single creased parchment on it. Picking it up she reads;

Dear Ted Tonks,

Do you remember Nymphadora?

Andromeda Black

Scrawled beneath it is a reply written in the messy writing of a teenage boy;

What year is she in?

Ted

Dropping the letter, Narcissa stepped away from the desk before running at her sister's bed and jumping on. "I'm so sorry!" Narcissa whispers fiercely into her older sister's hair as she holds her shivering body close.

"He doesn't remember our baby!" The older girl wails, fingernails digging in sharply to her back. Narcissa soothes and pat her sisters back until her hiccups dies to whimpers and her tears end. They are quiet for a while, both collecting themselves; haltingly, Andromeda pulls away from her younger sister wiping away the remnants of her tears with manicured nails.

"I'm sorry." Narcissa apologizes, eyes down cast.

The teenager laughs; (yet, it's far from joyful) "Oh 'cissa whatever are you sorry for?"

The blond girl is uncertain of what she should say: I'm sorry you can't have your husband? I'm sorry that your daughter doesn't exist? I'm sorry you have to go through this? I'm sorry that I'm a terrible sister? I'm sorry that this happened all together? There are so many things Narcissa could apologize for, but she knows it's impossible to pick just one to apologize for so, instead, she simply repeats "I'm sorry." Hoping that her sister will hear every unwhispered reason.

Andromeda smiles at her and sniffles as she dabs at her eyes with the sleeves of her blouse. "Have you written Lucius yet?" She asks.

The younger sister bites her lip. "I can't." She answers.

Andromeda blinks in startlement. "Why ever not?" Her sister demands leaning in close, scrutinizing every tell-tale feature of Narcissa's face.

Narcissa smiles through unshed tears. "I'm not as brave as you sister. I don't think I'll make it if Lucius doesn't remember us, I dare say I'd die on the spot." She admits. Andromeda falls back against her jade green sheets in a fit of snickers and guffaws. Perturbed, Narcissa leans over her and questions worriedly "Are you alright Andy?"

Between her gasp for breath, Andy waves a dismissive hand. "Oh-Oh" She chuckles, "Listen to us!" Gazing up at her sister with contradictory eyes of merriment and pain she whispers in a rush "We sound like love-struck children!"

Narcissa's lips quirk into a smile as she hides her giggling behind a pale hand. "We do!" She awes, "Oh how childish we are!" And the two sisters laugh until they're crying and clinging to one another.

"With every tick of a clock we become more like children." Andromeda utters horrified.

Snivelling miserably, Narcissa mutters "How else are we to fit in? If not by being the age we are?"

"Why were we brought here then? To relive our lives and have nothing change!" Her older sister demands, gripping Narcissa's wrist in a bruising hold as she searches the blond for any sign of dissent.

"It will change!" Narcissa roars back. "It has too!"

Suddenly as her rage had possessed her, it left her and Andromeda Black mumbled. "What if it doesn't?"

"It has too!" The younger sister repeats desperately.

"We'll make sure of it." Bellatrix confirms from the doorway.

"Bella!" Narcissa exclaims. "How long have you been there?" She frowns.

The older girl shrugs. "A while." And then stepping forward, she drops two letters on the bed. "One's for you 'cissa and the other is from the two terrors we claim our blood."

Picking up the one that belongs from her, Narcissa unfolds it to see one shakey-familiar-request written upon it.

I need you

"Oh Lucius..." She whimpers, her lips wobbling ready to release a pent up sob of relief. Getting up from the bed, Narcissa says "I have to go to him."

Grabbing her baby sister's elbow before she can throw herself into the fireplace, Bellatrix orders. "Wait a minute."

Yanking away, the furious girls screams. "I can't! He needs me!"

"You won't if you don't want mother and father coming after you!" Her sister snarls.

Narcissa trembles and falls to her knees sobbing into her hands. "What am I to do then? Abandon my husband?"

Painfully aware of what she says will either break or make her bond with her sister, Bella murmurs. "No, you wait."

Her blond head jerks from her hands and she glares furiously at her sister to hiss "Wait?" The teenager nods. "I won't! I can't!" She shrieks.

Kneeling in front of the young girl, Bella takes her hand and whispers to her fervently "Only until to tonight." Seeing that she's drawn her sister's attention and hope to the surface, Bella continues. "I'll take you there myself, when mother and father are asleep and not monitoring the floo or the comings and going of those on the property." Narcissa nods and lets Bella help her up from the floor and back to Andromeda's bed where the last letter waits.

"Are you going to open it?" Andromeda questions gazing up at her older sister. With a sigh, the eldest girl picks it up and reads aloud;

"Come tomorrow."

Glancing at the two younger girls, Bella raises an eyebrow. "Well?" She demands.

Rubbing at her temple, Andromeda grumbles. "I have no plans."

Blotting at her eyes with a handkerchief, Narcissa mumbles. "Nor do I."

A slow grin spreading across her pale cheeks, Bellatrix says. "That settles it then." and the dark-haired girl walks over to the desk jotting down a quick reply before whistling for a house elf.

"Send that to Sirius Black." She tells the elf.

"Yes miss Black." It agrees with a compliant bow before disappearing from the room. Turning back to her sisters, Bella gazes at them sadly. After a moment consideration, she opens her arms wide welcoming both sisters into an embrace. With only a second doubt, the two girls catapult themselves into the waiting arms and together the trio cry out their sorrows.


	6. And Love is not a Victory March

When light scatters across the room from the tall window's skewed drapes, Lucius lets his gaze drift from their intertwined hands to his father's face. Abraxas Malfoy's face is pale-bloodless-bony and gaunt; it speaks volumes on how much he suffered in his last days, (months, years, _life_ ). Suddenly, in a fit of anger, Lucius jumps to his feet jerking away from the stiff hand that cradled his. "I hate you!" Lucius screams at the corpse, "Why did you have to die?!" Breathing hard through his sobs, Lucius falls to his knees hiding his tears behind a boy's hands. "Why..." He whimpers.

Regretful of his previous actions, Lucius crawls over to his father's side taking up the icy hand and presses it against his cheek, (maybe he's _not_ gone, maybe his father is tricking him, maybe he will jump right out of bed and tell Lucius it was all one big joke, once and for all) warms tears spilling from his eyes and down the cold hand, Lucius hiccups. "If anyone...If anyone deserved to come back, it was you daddy." He stays there on his knees until they ache and his tears run dry. Eventually shifting to relieve the pressure on his knees, his living breath causes a strand of his father's hair to shift and in the light and he's reminded of another blond he loved, (loves) _Narcissa_...

With a sudden purpose, Lucius is up on his feet and stumbling over them in an effort to reach his room quick enough. Rushing to his desk, he jerks open a drawer and pulls out a thicket of parchment and drops it on the wooden top in a messy heap as he scrabbles for quill from his ink well. Taking a black-feathered pen up in his fingers, he scrawls out a single message;

_I need you_

Chest squeezing painfully, he prays Narcissa will know and will come to him. Darting to his window, he opens it and whistles for his owl. Within moments, an owl is swooping down from the trees surrounding the manor and perching on Lucius's outstretched arm. Holding out the letter, he says to the bird. "Takes this to Narcissa M-BLack." The animal trills in answer before lifting off and Lucius watches entrapped as the owl disappears into the horizon; leaving the boy (alone) to wait.

Somewhere in the time between his owl's leaving and the setting of the sun, Lucius falls asleep. He dreams, he dreams of enchanting things; glimpses of half-forgotten smiles, the mingling of baritone laughter and a child's soprano giggles, hot breath and satin-soft lips, whispers of long blond tresses against a stark back, the weight of a feather-light body in his hands, of _joy_ and _hope._ However, like everything Lucius has ever known his dreams grow scorched around the edges, slowly gaining ground as the destructive fire moves in; hissed (false) promises, bone-white masks, murky black color staining pure skin, the sting of slaps and wounds of hearts, crying infants, _disappointed e_ yes, so, so, _so many_ slack faces and immobile bodies. In the throes of beauty turned horror, a single memory begins to play;

_The crowd jeers at him, they shout insults and accusations; but most of all they_ cheer _._ _They praise his jailers, his executioners, they cast off victorious flares from their wands and toast to his impending end as the men flanking either side of him drag his (beaten) body to the newly-cut steps of the platform. Lucius does not lift his head, he stares down at the unjudging dirt and whispers to it;_ Don't forget me...I did what I thought right... _the ground does not speak, keeps no promises; Lucius, though, feels slightly better. The blond man stumbles abruptly realizing they've begun the assent to his gallow; the crowd roars with laughter and behind his dirty lank hair Lucius grits his teeth and seethes silently;_ Fools...

_If only they realized, knew, what is to come; suspicions, accusations...this war is far from over. Upon taking the final step on to the platform, Lucius lifts his head one last time and a gasp of surprise leaves his lips at the sight of the human across from him._ _Open mouth and trembling, Lucius utters_ "Narcissa.." _and with all he has left, escapes his captors and reaches his wife gripping her frail shoulders (they weren't always, his mind reminds him) in his weak hold._

_Tears coarsing down her sunken cheeks the woman whimpers. "_ Lucius." _Lucius quiets her with one last rapture inspiring kiss and clings to her with every bit of worth he still retains, clings to her even as the jailor make to pull him apart from his wife and as the crowd protest and calls for retribution. At last, the man's jailers separate him and his wife and with a cuff to his weak body guide him to his gallow. His executioner steps forward and with a cruel grin, situates the noose around his neck. Lucius ignores it all in favor of sending the crowd one last stare, it is full of hate and anger, but in his last seconds Lucius catches sight of a body slithering out of the crowd's edges and he opens his mouth to call out, to let the regal blond head know-_

Lucius wakes screaming and frantic hands reach out to him, smoothing his face and hair; desperately trying to mellow his fear. Bit by bit, he calms holding onto his comforter with all his boyhood strength. "Want to talk about it?" A youthful voice whispers, solemn and caring.

Finally lifting his chin, Lucius has to hold back a sob as he stares up into his wife's face of childhood. " _You came..._ " He breathes awed and relieved.

A smile light's up her radiant features and she presses closer to Lucius with a hushed murmur. "Of course I did silly, though, I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner..."

Clutching her arms, Lucius pulls himself up away from her undeveloped breast where he'd squalled his fears only minutes before to stare into her pale blue eyes. Narcissa's eyes soften as Lucius's hand comes to rest on her supple cheek. "You're real." Lucius breathes.

The girl cracks a grin and leans in touching foreheads with Lucius. "Why wouldn't I be love?" She inquires. With a sudden burst of energy, Lucius presses his lips to Narcissa's causing her breath to catch. After a moment, the girl's arms come to rest around Lucius's neck while the boy's own secure themselves around the young blond's waist. They stay close for a long time, letting their lips mingle and dusting pecks on each other's cheeks and along one another's necks. Lucius's hand begins to toy with the cloak string resting just bellow Narcissa's breast bone, he _wants_ her; he wants to meld with her once more, make them whole again.

Narcissa's hand comes to clasp his as she pulls away. "No." She whispers gazing pleadingly into his eyes. "Not like this." She begs of him, bringing his hand to her pink lips and peppering apologetic kisses on it.

The boy's face morphs to something thunderous as he hisses. "Why not? Do you not wish have me any longer?"

The girl's features mar with pain as she chokes back a sob. "No-"

"Then why!" Lucius demands.

"Not like this! Not when you're hurting!" She cries, tears dripping down her chin and into her lap. Lucius's heart pangs and he reaches over trying desperately to rub away the tears staining her flushed cheeks.

"I'm sorry, don't cry my love." He beseeches of her.

The girl's lips quirk and she strains herself to kiss her husband's cheek. "Hush, I know." She says to him. They fall silent for a time, neither willing to break the peace that's befallen them. Lucius eventually takes her girlish hand in his and leans in to her hair breathing hotly on her ear as he steals his resolve.

"He died." Lucius utters. "Again." He adds helpfully. His wife's stricken face slowly tilts toward him, horror-struck and racked with sympathy. Tears started anew, she snivels;

"Oh _Lucius_."

Water falling like rain from his eyes, Lucius admits. " _I don't know_ _what to do_." Hugging the older boy close, Narcissa murmurs soothing sounds and lets him cry into her shoulder. "I-I hardly got a _minute_ with him before _he-_!"

"Shhh..." Narcissa whispers running her fingers through Lucius's long blond locks. "Calm down love," She tells him. "What did you do last time?"

Lifting his head up and wiping away his tears with his sleeves, Lucius gazes pitifully at his wife with red eyes. "I don't know, I told the elves to take care of it."

Narcissa's brow furrows at this. "What happened when you announced your father passed away then? _I_ remember there being a memorial."

"It was closed-casket." Lucius supplies. "I said he caught a horrendous case of dragon pox, that scarred him terribly." The boy admits a bit sheepishly.

Narcissa nods. "I remember now." Lucius chuffs his acknowledgement and then falls back with a body racking sigh. "What's wrong Lucius?" Narcissa questions worriedly, twisting around to look down at her husband's prone form.

"I don't want to lie again." The boy groans. Narcissa frowns and begins to toy with her sleeves as she waits for Lucius to go on. "It's horrible." He mutters, "Having to pretend someone is alive when they're really dead and you can't _say_ anything, because then you'd bust the hoax!" He rants.

"Lucius..." Narcissa whimpers grasping for his hand.

"No! You don't get it!" He yells at her, jerking away.

"Stop, please...you're only hurting yourself." She cries once again trying and missing to touch her husband.

"It's not fair! _This_ is not fair!" He shouts shoving all of his books from his desk to the floor. Rising to her feet, Narcissa tackles Lucius in a hug. Struggling against his wife, he roars. "Let me go! Leave me alone!"

"No." She whispers, clinging tight as he tosses himself and her to and fro. "Not ever!" She promises, glaring up at him. This seems to calm Lucius some, enough for him to finally _look_ at her.

"Why do you stay with me?" He mumbles. "I've only ever brought you trouble," he comments and then face clouding, growls. "Only ever pain."

"No!" She disagrees, squeezing her husband closer. "You've given me your love wholly," She elaborates, "You gave me a son." She finishes with a sad laugh.

Lucius face contorts with sorrow. "Yes." He exhales, "A son we no longer have."

Narcissa shakes her head. "Not _yet_." She corrects. "I still wish to be your wife." She tells him and then glancing away, she whispers. "I still will bear you a son-more than one even-if you will allow me."

Lucius gazes open mouth at her. "More?" He repeats. "One son was enough strife, I can't imagine what _two,_ or even _three_ would be like." The blond boy smirks.

Narcissa tosses her head back giggling and shortly after, Lucius joins in. When their laughter dies down to heavy breath, Narcissa lays her head on her husband's narrow chest and sighs. "I missed this." She murmurs.

A warm hand rubbing her back Lucius hums his agreement. "Yes, it's refreshing isn't it?"

A smile worming its way to her lips, Narcissa hides her face in Lucius's shoulder. "Indeed."


	7. Unto What Gods do I Call

A cooling zephyr toys with Remus's mousey brown hair and somewhere in the distance, a cow bell rattles; with a comfortable sigh, Remus situations himself feet dangling in the air above him as he flops his head back to scan the expanses of field land upside down. Smiling to himself, he picks up his perspiring glass of lemonade from the worn porch boards and takes a sip, giggling at himself when he spills some down his cheek. How strange it is, he muses, to be here, to be a child. Remus knows he should worry; should be upset, seeking out others-help-yet when is he ever going to get to enjoy a lazy summer day with his mother only ten feet away in the kitchen again? He'd thought never once, but now...it's here and he plans to take it to his full advantage.

Beating his heals against his porch swing's back frame to a song only he knows, Remus steals back a grin and reaches for the book he found in his room just this morning. He remembers this one, he thinks, it's about a dragon rider who's out to slay a monster and save its captive; a beautiful princess. It's like a many stories he'd enjoyed in his youth, where good _always_ comes out triumphant. Some of his glee falls away and quickly filled with sobering wonders; had they...had they won in the end? What of Harry? His son, Teddy? With a growl he shakes his head furiously banishing the worries from mind trying to regain his previous merriment.

A pop sounds not far off and lift his head sideways to scan the fields he sees his father slowly walking to the family home, sack slung over one shoulder. The long grass sloshed as the man nears and Remus watches face blank and mind ablaze. _Dad..._ how he loathed and loved the man, for all his love, for all his kindness, he was faint of heart, incapable of facing or acknowledging his son's _condition_ and leaving his wife to age years in a matter of a day, all alone and without support. Reaching the porch steps, the man's face light's up in a relieved smile and he greets "Hello Remus."

"Dad" Remus calls back cooly, twisting around so he's upright in his seat. Lumbering up the stairs, the man comes over to ruffle Remus's hair, but stops short eyes widening with horror.

"What's the matter dad?" Remus inquires with false innocence, knowing just what's upset his father so.

Letting his eyes glint an inhuman gold once more, Remus gives his father a smile full of teeth and jokes "I'm not gonna bite dad," as his father's face grows ashen, Remus can't help but add cruelly; "not now anyway."

The screen door creaks and Remus whips his head around to see his mother's displeased face, a damp dish towel in hand. "Stop it Remus." She scolds and the disapproval fades away to become elation at the sight of her husband. "Welcome home Love." His mother says to his father craning her neck to peck a kiss to the werewolf's father's pale jaw.

"Samantha." Remus's father murmurs, one arm wrapping around her shoulders; his eyes, though, do not leave Remus. The werewolf smiles pleasantly and pretends like nothing's different. "Samantha.." His father starts and mother sighs.

"I think he's hit his head, he's been acting...oddly...since he...woke up." She explains to her husband stilted and selective in her word choice.

His father bobs his head and whispers "I could-"

"We don't have he money..."

"If he's hurt we can't just ignore it."

"I know, but-"

"Sam."

"Why don't we wait and see if he worsens?" Remus's mother proposes in the end and his father exhales, running a hand through his prematurely thinning hair.

"I'm right here." Remus decides to tell them.

Mother smiles at him and crouches down laying a damp hand on his cheek. "I know sweetheart."

Remus fidgets and grumbles. "Don't talk like I'm not."

"Alright." His mother agrees, leaning in hugging him quickly before backing off; all eyes on her husband. "Tea, love?" She asks.

"Yes please." Father nods and he lets his wife lead him by the hand into the home, but his gaze lingers on his son. Remus pretends to read his book until father's disappeared into the home, then slowly, quietly, rising to his feet peers into the house through the open doorway. His features shift to one of contempt as mother's thin hands place a plate of food in front of father. He doesn't deserve mother's kindness, not a coward like him...

Remus's gut twists, but isn't he a coward too? Too afraid to stand up for victims, too afraid to stick around when things turn rough...no. Remus proved himself, he knows he did! He stayed, he fought for a better world, a better world for _his_ son.

Remus swallows thickly and blinks back a swell of tears. _Dora..._ oh pour Dora, she's not even _born_ yet. Briefly, he wonders how Andromeda is fairing. If she might be...well, like him. His finger itches, he wants to contact her; write a letter maybe. Alas, she's a _Black_ and Remus knows how his father feels about those uppity pure-bloods and if she doesn't know him...wouldn't it confuse her more to receive a letter from a boy not _even_ in Hogwarts?

Groaning in anger, Remus throws himself away from the door and runs out into the yard. Finding a rock along a dirt path, he picks it up and throws the rock into the distance hoping to dispel the anger that's taken a hold of him. It's never good to be angry, it makes the wolf stronger, feral. "Why?" He screams at the sky, at the world. "Why did you do this to me?" He finishes, voice little more than a whisper anger depleted and sorrow working fast to take up its place.

Tears leak down his flushed cheeks, but Remus doesn't wipe them away at first. Instead, he lets them fall and dry in the early day sun. Grass rustles behind Remus and with a quick wipe of his arm he scrubs away the tear tracks leaving raw, itching skin behind. A tall figure's shadow comes to loom over him and Remus has to keep himself from bristling in annoyance. "What's on your mind son?" His father implores quietly, not once looking at the werewolf.

The boy glances sideways and frowns. "What do you mean?" He demands.

"You've been...aytipcally bitter today." His father explains haltingly and Remus snorts.

"That all?" He inquires, faintly amused.

His father's brows raise to his receding hairline and he murmurs. "It's not like you Remus, not at all."

"Things change dad." He answers.

"I think you mother might be right." His father mutters more to himself than Remus. "We should call up a healer."

" I haven't hit my head!" Remus shouts. "I just..." The werewolf trails off. "A dream I had," He begins. "It's been bothering me more and more lately..."

"Tell me about it." His father suggests. Remus does; he tells him of his boyhood at Hogwarts, about the gang of mischievous and not always kind-hearted friends he made, the ever-popular and loyal-to-the-end James, the rash and headstrong Sirius, who never knew when to _stop,_ the friend with quiet appraising eyes, who turned traitor when all was done, and in his explanation slips in another boy, one with knowledgable eyes that knew more and scared more than he could understand, a boy who attracted misfortune like no other, one who he allowed to be terrorized and ostracized and because of his passiveness the mere thought of this boy will always fill Remus with guilt. He tells about the evil sorcerer that will one day call himself Voldermort and the discord he will bring, fear and oppression trailing right behind. He tells him about his adventures all across the world, about his wife, how lovely, how kind, how _strong_ and _brave_ she was, even at the end. And Remus tells him about the son he waited so long to have, the child that suited his mother in appearance and smiled at _him_ just like _her._ He tells of the final battle, the chaos, the terror, and the pain it rought on him ( _everyone)_ up to the point of his death. When Remus finishes his tale in little more than a wisp of his voice, son and father are silent for a time. Eventually, the man clears his throat. "Quite the dream Remy." His father offers in the end.

Remus shrugs and whispers softly. "Sometimes, it feels like I lived it."

His father's large hand reaches out and ruffles his son's brown locks. Remus lifts his gaze up and sees _fear_ in his father's eyes, another trouble on top of trouble; Remus wishes then he hadn't added to the burden his father carried. No doubt the man thought the lycanthropy is turning him mad. Remus's feels his body begin to quiver and he thinks father will never say anything to him ever again, when father's voice cracks."Dreams are sometimes surreal in that way." He says. "With an imagination like that, maybe you could be a writer someday." He tells his son looking so very hopeful and anxious.

Remus stills. A writer...what an absurd idea, Remus gapes at first; slowly, though, his mind's wheels turn and he ponders, why not? It's not like anyone would ever know the truth. Remus certainly didn't plan to let his life follow the same course it did the first time. Smiling up at his father for the first time that day (many days, weeks, months, even), Remus chirps with boyish enthusiasm. "Yeah! Why not?" Laughing (sobbing), he throws his arms around his father's waist and hugs him. "Thanks dad!"

The man is rigid in surprise, but then he melts and hugs the werewolf back. "Your welcome son." He whispers, voice gruff and emotional. Remus clings tighter, wondering if it isn't impossible to make up for the misplaced anger and blame of his youth; he prays it's not.


	8. Rate Yourself and Rake Yourself

Mother thinks he's sick. Father thinks it's just a phase. And James, James doesn't say a word. He mopes (mourns) around his childhood home in the quiet darks rooms of the manor when mother orders him out of his bedroom, he doesn't run, he doesn't yell, he doesn't cause trouble. At meals, he watches mother twist and turn her wedding band on her slim finger and all James can think of how precious that ring had appeared on _his_ wife's hand. Father, for once, has to seek _James_ out when he comes home from his long hours at the ministry and wrangle hugs and kisses that just days earlier had been given effortlessly. James hides and skirts out of interaction with his mother and father; it's a game of cat and mouse somedays, mother sweeping the manor for her dark-haired child father casting point me spells when he comes home, but surprisingly, James isn't the blundering boy they remember. He's a boy with a man's experiences and knowledge, it's from his short stint as an Aurora he learned to disappear from view.

It's one late night-hours after his parents had found him and forced him to bed-that James is up and ghosting through his family home as if he's as ethereal as he thought he would be after death (but his hearts still beats, he still greedily gulps air when he knows his son and the wife he remembers no longer do; that he is sure of), in one of the long and ornate halls a small shape sashays towards him. The thing approaches and in a scatter of starlight he sees a pair of green (like his wife's, like his son's) eyes turn up at him and glint with secrets. Crouching, he reaches down and scratches the black cat behind the ear. "Hey there Nettle." He murmurs, James remembers once how he wanted a familiar for a cat, just like mother, until Sirius talked him out of it third year saying an owl was better because then they could write to each other all the time, (James conceeds in the end, but years after he still dreamt of silent shadows with fae orbs of green).

The cat circles around Jame's short legs, tale lingering as if to seduce, when it turns away from Jame abruptly; gaze locked down the winding hall towards the kitchen. "What is it girl?" Jame inquires curiously, the cat casts him a single look before striding down the hall. Jame frowns, how odd, he ponders. In a fit of romanticism James believes her to want him to follow, so without a second guess he trails after the cat and blinks in the darkness at the dampened light spilling from the kitchen. Pattering to the door, he drops to his knees and squints into the crack between the floor and door. Two pairs of feet lay behind the door, one in boots the other ballet flats. The flats pace the room while the boots stay steady and sure glued to their spot, abruptly, the flats swivel on their heels and point themselves at the boots.

"We need to call a healer." His mother's voice mutters through the door.

"It's a phase." Father argues and james heart begins to hammer in his throat.

"It's not!" His mother all but shouts, "It started after that...nightmare, if you want to _even_ call it that." She finishes in a murmur of consonants James can hardly make sense of at first.

His father gives an aggrieved sigh and answers back. "What _else_ could it be if not a nightmare?"

"Someone could have attacked him! It's possible!" His mother argues. Father's finger's tap against a hard surface and James just knows he's waiting for his mother to see how ridiculous she sounds. "You've made more than one enemy John! And that Malfoy is not the only one you've _accidentally_ hurt!" She shouts at him and James hears a cup clatter to the table, gut twisting, he fears what's to come next.

"I know that! Don't you think I know that?!" James's father demands upset. "But, why would they attack _my_ son when they have me?" He finishes quieter and uncertain.

"Oh John!" His mother sobs. "Please, let's just call a mind healer? Please love?"

"...if he's not himself in the morning." His father finally replies and the answer leaves Jame's sweating. _They'll know, they'll know_! James mind screams at him, they'll know James isn't their son any longer, they'll know what a failure he turned out to be, they'll know he let his _son and wife die_! James's scrambled mind is interrupted when Nettle suddenly runs herself against his side causing him to jump away from the door. A second later said door opens and in the hall's inky colors he sees his father and mother hand in hand stroll down the hallway and to the wing where the bedrooms lay.

"Should we check up on Jamie, just in case?" His mother yawns, leaning her head of black curls upon his father's shoulder.

"He's fine Jenna." Father sighs fondly.

"I suppose your right..." Mother snuffles, cuddling closer to her husband. When they're gone from sight, James's heart begins to settle and Nettle turns her head to face him green eyes glowing, (tempting him, _follow me,_ they say).

James doesn't know what to make of anything at this point, but he does know his luck is due to this cat. With an age-old sigh, he reaches out and rubs Nettle's ear. "Good kitty." He says and then getting to his feet scoops her into his arms, muttering "Guess you could sleep with me." The cat purrs content and dissolves in his arms like a goo. James barks a laugh, "You _crazy_ cat."

Padding down the hall to his own room, James holds back a yawn as his eyes droop. _Funny, I haven't felt tired for days..._ Opening his bedroom door, he nearly appears in front of his bed and falls into the mused sheets Nettles curling up on his chest. Blinking against sleep, James whines."Why'd ya have to make m' tired?" The cat sends him a withering stare and proceeds to knead her paws into his stomach, the boy gives a sleepy giggle and fighting no longer, sleep overcomes him.

* * *

"Jamie." A hushed voice calls into the blackness, "love, time to wake up." The person insists and with a groan, James lets the darkness fall away to usher in the light of day.

Opening his eyes, instead of seeing Nettles night-fur resting on his chest, he gazes up at his mother's care-worn face inches above; her eyes adoring and loving, but James knows more is hiding in them if he cares to look (he doesn't). "Mum?" He mumbles, playing up his childishness as he reaches skyward to hug her around the neck; Mother's eyes grow wide in surprise, but he feels the tension in her shoulders melt to nothing.

Her hands flutter at her side as if she can't believe it, before they come to cradle his dark head and she hides her face in his hair as she cries. "Jamie-!"

Feigning panick, James squirms and asks. "What's wrong mum?"

"Oh James, Jamie, _love_ " Mother hiccups, "You don't _know_ how _happy_ you make your mother."

"Happy?" James remarks. "You're _crying_ mum." James states, trying to leave her hold if only to wipe away her tears.

"They're happy tears love." His mother tells him, finally letting James squirm away so they can see each others faces.

"Happy for _what_?" James demands.

"Oh-" His mother starts, but then with a nervous flicker of her eyes about the room begins to censor her words. "You've been _strange_ these past days, _quiet,_ I suppose is the right word; it's not like you love." She explains.

James gazes at her silently before bursting out in a round of laughter. " _Mummy_!" He shrills, "I wasn't acting _odd_ I was _thinking_!"

Some of mother's unease returns and she comments. "I don't believe I want you thinking if this is what happens."

James snickers and cuddles into his mother's side, like he remembers doing when he was a boy and says impishly "I'll be rather _dim_ if I _don't_ think mummy."

Mother snorts and one of her hands comes to cup Jame's head to her cheek. "Yes, I suppose your quite right; but whatever were you thinking about that made you so quiet?" She implores, squeezing him tightly (a bit unnecessarily too, James believes).

"Just stuff mum." James says vaguely, at the disapproving wilt of his mother's lips; James lets his eyes wander to her hand. On it, his gaze catches sight of her golden wedding band imbedded with a diamond and rubies circling it on her ring finger. "Like, someday, I'll give _my_ wife your wedding ring; her eyes will compliment the red amazingly." He whispers to her, plump fingers tracing the jewels of the ring.

Mother is silent for a long while, James fears she thinks something's wrong with him again when she bends her head and kisses his cheek soundly. "You'll make a wonderful husband someday James." She tells him in hushed reverence.

"Maybe." James says eventually, but he knows that it's a lie; he's proven his worth as a husband already. He's one who fails not only in saving his wife, but his child too and it's this thought that brings James to tears; he holds the stinging dam of salt water back, though, for he cannot cry for his losses now. Not if he wants to prove to his wife, _himself,_ he can redeem his value and rescue his family once and for all.


	9. I'll Show Thee the Way, Through all the Pain and the Sorrows

His eyes opened. Pushing himself up on sore arms, Severus felt his body scream and rebel against the simplest actions of waking. He cringes and takes a deep breath causing the little girl beside him to stir with a low hum. Freezing, Severus waits hoping that his bed companion will not open her eyes. Prayers answered, Lily's face settles and a sleepy sigh tosses away from her, causing the long hair drapped about her face to flutter in the air like a bout of flames. Severus stares at her mesmerized, how long has it been since he had Lily all to himself? But no matter how content he feels in one moment, it's as quick to change as a shifting wind, a breath, no, this feeling won't last.

Slipping out of the lace and frills, Severus stifles a yawn behind the sleeve engulfing his child hand. His eyes catch a glimpse of a stain on the on the white sleeve as he pulls it away. Bringing it up to eye level, Severus studies it with an intensity he usually uses for measuring potion ingredients. Though, instead of the feeling of satisfaction that comes with knowing he's once again successfully chopped his ingredients to correct measures; he feels foreboding, the stain on the sleeve, it's _blood_. Breath quickly turning ragged, Severus slowly twists around craning his neck to see rust colored stains upon the virgin sheets where he laid only a minute before. A sick, panicky feeling clouding his thoughts, he darts from the room and to the bathroom he used the night before; _maybe...my clothes are still there..._ He hopes desperately. He doesn't want to stick around, not when the Evans learns he's ruined what little they gave him.

Speeding down the bedroom hall, he narrowly misses running into Mrs. Evan as she comes out of her bedroom in a pink bathrobe and hair styled in odd angles from sleep. Toppling over from the loss of balance, Severus can't help but hiss as he jars his wounds and causes his aches to flare. Mrs. Evans bare feet come to stand beside him and in a quavering, uncertain voice she whispers "Severus?"

Slowly, Severus raises his shadow eyes to meet a pair of common brown. "Mrs. Evans." He grunts trying to push himself up on weak arms and knees. His muscles give out underneath him and he gasps. Before he can struggle again, slim arms wind around his middle and easily lift him from the hard floor.

"Oh you poor, _poor_ , boy." She murmurs cradling him close to her, her eyes only conveying pity as far as Severus cares.

Indignant and embarrassed, Severus snaps. "Do _not_ feel _sorry_ for _me_!" This startles Mrs. Evans and her stare becomes shocked. Fussing and wriggling, Severus growls. "I'm not one of _your_ children and I _know_ you only took me in the night before because of my appearance! If I had come any other time, _after_ I had cleaned myself up and hidden my injuries you would have told me to get off your _property_ without a second thought about why I was there. It wouldn't have mattered if I was Lily's _friend_ or _not_!" He finishes his rant, huffing and puffing. Severus refuses to glance up at Lily's mother, he doesn't want to know what she's going to do with him.

"Your-Your _right_!" Mrs. Evans sobs falling to the ground on her knees, pressing the boy in her arms closer to her breast as she cries into his greasy, neglected hair. Severus stills and after a beat his dark eyes rise to meet her own and the woman can only cry harder at the astonishment. Had anyone ever told this boy, _this child_ , they had failed him and not the other way around? Her tears seem to distress him and he begins to fidget against her, eventually he reaches out and pats one of her hands.

"It's okay. I would have told any dirty child that came to _my_ house to get off my porch too." He says to her, and Lily's mother knows he's trying to apologize for making her cry. But it only makes her feel worse, the child shouldn't be apologizing for trying to find haven from his demons.

"Oh no, _never_ say that again sweetheart." She tells the boy, gripping his chin firmly in her fingers to make him gaze up in her eyes and see how serious she is. "We were _wrong_ , no one should _ever_ judge another _human being_ on their appearances." She elaborates and the boy's face swirls with confusion and incomprehension. But, that's alright, he's never know anything else and it will be her and her husband's job to teach him from now on.

Mrs. Evans-" He starts, but Julie shakes her head.

"Call me Julie." She offers. This, disturbs the boy and he begins to shift against her once more.

"Julie-" He stops abruptly, her name ending in a strangled sound. The woman doesn't say a word and waits for him to continue. His mouth flops open and then clenches shut as he takes a deep body shaking breath. "I _can't_ stay." He finally utters.

"What? You can't expect me to just let you go back to those _mon_ -" Julie's tirade cuts off early by Severus's anguished eyes.

" _He'll_ find me, I _know_ he will." The child voices, sounding so very tiny and afraid.

"We'll move." Lily's mother answers aggressively. "Across country if we have to."

"But-" Severus fights.

"You _aren't_ going back young man." She orders.

"What you're doing, it's _kidnapping_!" He rushes out in one pained breath.

"Any court will agree with us;" She begins, tone measured and careful, "that he was going to _kill_ you."

"Just as many will think I deserve it." Severus mutters glum and despondent to her argument.

"We'll run away as many times as we need to." Julie argues.

The child's face lifts and he gazes at her critically, in a way that's far too adult for her comfort. "I see where Lily get's her _romanticism_ from." He comments.

Julie finds herself blushing and counters a bit too zealously in her opinion; "Paul will agree with me!" But she knows it's a fib and that this conversation is settled for the time being.

Footsteps come from the room adjacent to them, tilting her head sideways, Julie instinctively hides the little boy in her arms by curling around him.

"Mum?" Her eldest daughter calls.

"Yes love?" She asks, glancing up to see Petunia's long face gaze down at her and the child in her arms with slitted eyes.

"What's _he_ doing here?" She growls, tense and ready to spring.

"He's Lily's friend." She answers simply.

"So? I don't see why that accounts for why your _holding_ _him mother_." Petunia presses, voice dropping to a hiss.

Sniffing delicately at her daughter's ill temperament, Julie rises to her feet; (he weighs nothing at all in her arms). "Youre father and I are planning to keep him." She answers, swishing down the hall and to the bathroom.

Staring open-mouthed at her mother's back, Petunia hurries after and cries. "You don't _mean_ that do you?"

"I do." Her mother asserts, flicking on the light in the bathroom as she enters.

"You _can't_!" Petunia yells.

"Why not?" The older woman asks as she places Severus on the bathroom counter.

"Because-" The pre-teen quiets suddenly as she sees the reflection of the Spinner's End boy peeking out around her mother's. Gaunt circles surround his eyes and one even seems to be swelled, his lip is split and there's a browned bandage taped to a spot on his forehead. "Oh." She whispers.

"Can he stay Petunia?" Her mother aks, but not really.

"Uh-huh." The brunette mumbles, even she is not so cruel as to send a boy back to certain death.

"Lovely, we can all be one big happy family now." Severus snarks as Petunia's mother pulls the first-aid kit from the cupboard bellow the sink.

"Watch it mister." Her mother rebukes and Petunia finds it oddly strange but fitting as Severus glances down at his lap and whispers;

"Ssorry." Lisping adorably because of his missing front tooth.

Her thin mouth lifting in the briefest smile, Petunia leans against the door frame and tells her mother. "I don't mind."

Closing the cupboard door with a thud, Julie grunts; "Good, I have a feeling that lip of his is going to be a common occurence" as she begins to sift through the supplies in the first aid-kit.

Severus makes a less than pleased face and Petunia can't help but giggle. A cheery smile later, she inquires. "Would you like me to start making the eggs and toast?"

"Would you Pet?" Her mother implores, twisting her neck to glance over at her daughter.

Severus grins devil-like. "Yes, would you _Pet_?" He echoes, thumping his feet gleefully against the counter.

"Hush Severus." Her mother whispers as Petunia screws up her lips ready to retort, when a wail comes from down the hall.

Shifting her gaze down the hallway, Petunia sighs. "That's Lily."

"No doubt wondering what happened to her friend." Her mother mutters, her eyes not wavering from her work as she tries to clean up a struggling Severus's injuries. "Stop squirming!" She demands in annoyance.

"I can do it myself!" Is the opposing cry.

Blinking lazily between her mother and the bedroom down the hall, the twelve-year-old offers. "Want me to get Lily?"

"Please." Her mother agrees, dabbing at Severus's lip with cloth. Bobbing her head, Petunia wonders down the hall into her baby sister's room to find Lily sitting in her bed face streaked with tears.

"What's wrong?" Petunia scowls, hands on her budding hips.

"Sevs gone!" She hiccups.

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Petunia juts a thumb at the doorway and says. "He's in the bathroom with mum getting his scrapes redressed." Lily perks up at the news and with a quick swipe of her arm beneath her trickling nose, rockets down the hall with a delighted shriek of "Sev!"

With a dramatic sigh, Petunia throws her hands in the air and grumbles to no one. "Is it _always_ going to be _this_ mad around here?"

"It just might Pet, it just might." A voice chuckles from the hall and the girl made of angles twirls around to find her father's pleasant face in the doorway.

"Daddy!" She shouts, throwing herself at the man. "Why didn't you come in?" She asks.

"You were handling it." He says with a shrug. Holding out the crook of his arm, he implores. "I do believe I heard you say would make breakfast?"

Petunia smiles and nods. "Eggs and toast."

Rubbing his stomach, Paul exclaims. "Sounds great Pet!" A short time later the house fills with the clatter of dishes and the happy chatter of children.

* * *


	10. And Those Secrets Hidden on Our Childish Lips

It's the first time that her parents leave them alone. They leave Petunia in charge on that damp summer day, father at work and mother out trying to procure the necessary papers to enroll Severus in the upcoming semester. The three children are left in front of the living room's small telly, hot and sweaty; yet too bored to consider finding cooler air else where in the house. Strewned at an odd angle, Lily watches with blank eyes as the weather man jabbers on about the upcoming weekend weather and not for the first time wishes she were at Hogwarts. _James_...her mind calls and Lily chances a glance at Severus who appears just as under-stimulated as she feels. She wants to ask him for the billionth time if she can contact James, but he will no doubt refuse.

" _Not until I'm contacted._ " He told her the first time she asked,

" _By who?_ " She demanded at his unsatisfactory answer, he sent her a look next that made _her_ feel like she was the prat for asking.

Lily has been constantly needling her friend the past week in an attempt to make him spill, but it seemed in the time she had last spent time with Severus and his death he learned a thing or two about being tight-lipped (not that he hadn't been before, but Lily had _always_ managed to get a scrap from him). With a tired groan, Lily whines "I'm _bored_."

"Belt up!" Her older sister snaps from her lounging position on the couch, a Nancy Drew mystery novel covering her eyes.

Huffing, Lily grumbles. "Can't make me." How she hates her sister's attitude.

"Yeah?" Her sister demands, now sitting up and glaring straight at Lily.

"Uh-huh!" Lily rebuttals. Eyes sparking nastily; Petunia's thin lips part into a sneer, but before she can get a word out, the door bell rings.

"Get that." Her sister orders, sinking back into the couch. Lily sputters and tries to protest, yet Petunia only turns the volume up on the telly.

"So not _fair_!" Lily cries, getting up on her feet and stomping to the front door.

"Remember to smile Lils!" Her older sister calls after her, voice airy and deliciously pleased.

Grinding her teeth, Lily opens the front door and bares her teeth in a harsh smiled. "Can I help you?" She inquires, staring up curiously at the haggard woman with eyes as black as Severus's. The woman wrings her hands and glances each way before turning her attention back to Lily.

"I-I" She stammers, realizing how she must be coming off to Lily; the woman takes a very deep, rattling breath and whispers "I'm looking for my son, Severus?" At Lily's uncomprehending (shocked) face, the dark eyes become a size larger and she pleads. "I remember once, he mentioned meeting a little wi-girl by the name of Lily." She concludes, gazing so longingly at Lily that the girl almost right there sells out her friend.

"Who is it Lily?" Severus questions coming up behind her.

The woman's face perks up and her eyes begin to water, "Get back!" She barks at her friend, heart hammering in her throat as she hurries to shove the door closed.

"Severus?" His mother cries, foot surreptitiously coming between the door and the jam. Lily gazes on in horror as Severus's face looses what little color it has as he begins to quake. "Love, are you alright? It's time to come home, your father's not angry any longer." The woman tells her child, struggling to shimmy around the half closed-door as Lily presses against it with all her might.

"Sev! Go hide!" Lily shouts at her friend as her sweaty palms slip and slide against the door.

"You little brat! Don't tell _my_ son what to do!" Severus's mother growls and one discolored hand pops around the door coming within a breath's length of Lily's face. Lily falls back startled, allowing the woman to get around the door and into the house. She spits at Lily and sneers "Dirty mudblood." Lily feels like she's in Fifth year again, but this time, she feels even more powerless. Taking a step towards her shaking son, Eileen crouches down and holds out a hand like one would to a timid animal. "Love, it's time to come home." She says to the boy. Severus cringes and topples backwards when his foot stumbles on the hall rug. He gives a hurt noise and curls into a ball, his mother frowns and hisses "Come along Severus, there's no time for games."

"No!" Severus chokes out, and Lily realizes then that her _bravest_ friend is _crying._

"What?" His mother demands, lips twisting into a arcid grimace and Lily fears that the woman will strike Sev.

Footfall comes from behind suddenly and Lily looks up to see Petunia's her eyes tight in fear and in her white fingers grip is the phone. Taking a deep breath she belows"Hey! You get out of here before I call the cops on you!"

Severus's mother's head jerks up and she stares at Petunia eyes alight with anger. "Cops?" She mocks. "What could a couple of bloody _muggles_ do to _me?"_

Bravely (stupidly, Severus and Petunia will tell her later), Lily blurts "What your husband does to you and your son."

The woman's head snaps around and her gaze glinting with insanity settles on Lily. "You little-" She starts, taking a step towards the young girl hands outstretched ready to claw into her face when a shout comes from behind her.

"Avada Kedavra!" A verdant glow engulfs the room while a bolt of green hits the woman, Lily and Petunia scream as Severus's mother falls to the floor like a puppet without a master. Eyes slowly lifting from the dead body, Lily gazes down the hall to see Severus's pale tear streaked face staring straight back at her. "I had to." He whispers voice hoarse. "I couldn't-" a sob falls unbidden from his lips and he curls in hiding his face in his knees. "She was going to _kill_ you!" His muffled declaration carries throughout the hall.

"Oh my _god_." Petunia utters, one hand floating just in front of her white face while the other clutches at her middle. "You're-You're-" The girl stammers.

"Don't!" Lily yells, "Don't you dare!"

Petunia doesn't listen and she shrieks "Murder!"

Severus moans and hiccups "C-Couldn't-! Not a-again!"

"They'll send us to jail!" Petunia wails hysterically, fingers tugging at her hair.

"Shut up!" Lily roars at her older sister. "We won't! _Magic_ killed her, no one will ever know what made her die!" Petunia continues to sniffle, but Lily's explanation seems to calm her enough for her to abate her tears. Getting up from the floor, Lily moves to close the front door and then turns to her accomplices. "We need a plan." She says to them.

"Tell them the truth." Severus mumbles, chin resting on his fist as he gazes mournfully at his mother's corpse.

"The _truth_?!" Petunia squeals, "Like _that_ will go over well."

Severus scowls and with narrowed eyes sneers. "You'll see." Shifting his attention away he orders Lily "Call the cops." Lily listens.

"Hello? Ummmm there's a dead lady in my house." She tells the person on the other side of the line.

* * *

"Can you explain that again?" The police officer sighs, running a hand through his thinning hair.

"She was lookin' for Sev, she got inside and then I told her you guys would beat her up like Sev's daddy beats 'em up and when she was going to come at me, she fell down." Lily explains for the thousandth time, tiny feet tapping a steady beat against the leg of her couch, by this time mum had come home and whisked Petunia off to comfort her in the safety of her bedroom and now only a sullen Severus and herself were left to talk to the cop.

"Yes, I understand that she fell, but _why_?" He questions in a low growl.

Severus shudders and with a scowl Lily snaps ""cause Sev yelled abra kadabra!"

The man only looks a hundred times more bewildered and with a groan scribbles down a note in his notepad before standing up. "Tell your mother I'll be in touch."

Lily relaxes then and gives the man a sunny grin. "Okay sir! Bye!" And she follows the man out on to the porch before coming back to the living room to see Severus curled up against one arm of the sofa. Lily stares at him; she's worried about Severus, but...she's also a bit scared of him. What had happened to him since she last called him her friend, she knew he'd been heading towards the dark, but he'd seemed to have changed since then. Now, she wasn't so sure.

"You think I'm evil don't you?" Severus mutters, voice hoarse and bleak.

Lily can't lie, she's not Slytherin enough to hack it. "I don't know." She answers simply.

"I love-loved-her too, you know." He tells Lily, night eyes meeting her emerald-green.

"Then why?" Lily demands, why would you kill someone you love?

"She...Lily you weren't _there._ She just _stayed_ there curled up on the ground and let him _beat_ me." He says to her and Lily feels the need to rebuke, to tell him she gets it; yet...he has a point. She wasn't there. Wheezing lowly, Severus pushes on to say. "She's my _mother_ , I-I can't _not_ love her...but when she was going to-to-" and he's hyperventilating.

"Oh Sev!" Lily cries, rushing to his side and patting his back. She doesn't understand, not one bit, but she knows something desperate and aching made him act out in the way he did and Lily knows someday she'll learn why; though, if she'll understand is still uncertain. "It's okay, it's okay I don't hate you." She tells him over and over. Slowly, but surely, Severus does calm down and after some time he lifts his eyes to meet hers.

"Why don't you?" He asks.

"Don't what?" Lily frowns.

"Hate me." He mumbles around his knees.

Lily pauses. Why doesn't she? He's a murderer and that is someone Lily thought she'd never fall low enough to allow in her company, but..."Because you'll always be my best friend first." She replies and she finds it's the truth, no matter what happens, Severus will always be her friend first.

Severus's eyes fall closed and his taut body sags against her side. "Thank you." He murmurs.

"Always." Lily whispers letting her fire hair flow around them like a blanket of protection as she rests her head upon his shoulder.


	11. Once the Paper's Crumpled up, it can't be Perfect Again

In the deadness, only the faint sound of bare feet scratching across the carpet as they pace the length of the room in front of the glowing embers of the mantle reminds Andromeda she isn't the only one in this stomach sickening plight of _waiting._ Blinking slowly, Andromeda's eyes wonder to the clock hung above the fireplace and sees with a clarity she doesn't even remember having, that the big hand is just past twelve and the little lays a quarter further; swallowing down her worry, Andromeda runs her fingers up and down the crochet blanket she remembers making one long summer when she was twelve. Abruptly, Bellatrix's pacing comes to an end and the younger sister glances up to see her lean body outlined by the glowing light of the hearth.

"She should be back by now." Her older sister remarks, not bothering to turn around.

Andromeda finds herself irked that her sister doesn't even think she needs to turn to speak to her, _how arrogant!_ So, instead of trying to placate her sister Andromeda grumbles "Love does not keep track of time, _dear_ sister." Her sister doesn't so much as twitch; still not soothed, Andromeda sneers, "but surely you already knew this? Unless...you never _loved._ "

Bellatrix whirls around at this; her face ablaze with fury, (but for all she searches no madness can be uncovered). "That's low and you know it." Bella hisses deadly and quiet.

With a sniff, Andy ignores the danger and lifts one delicate eyebrow drawling. "Is it?"

"You _haughty_ prat!" Her dark-haired sister snarls and Andromeda chokes back a terrified shriek when her sister's sharp nails pinch the flesh of her arms through her cotton nightshift; gazing into her sister's eyes, Andromeda is scared at the true fire burning in them. "You think your _so_ superior to me don't you?" Her sister growls. " _I'm_ better than bonkers Bella, _I_ got _away, I_ married a _good_ man, _I_ don't worship a _murderer,_ _I_ don't _kill_ innocents, _I'm_ not _evil_!" Bellatrix spits, voice badly imitating Andromeda's own. Her teeth bare in a wild snarl "Well, at _least_ I'm not a _coward_!" She roars at the younger girl, Bellatrix's intensified grip no doubt leaving finger print bruises on Andromeda's upper arms.

Andromeda scrambles for a rebuttal while her lips stay stunned open unable to do more than splutter, Bellatrix releases her roughly and casts her gaze sideways hindering a direct reading of her sister's emotions. In the wan light, Andromeda watches on as her sister's chin trembles briefly before clenching into a steal-like ridge. "I think we should floo Lucius." She mutters turning away suddenly, most likely ashamed of her out burst; though, Andromeda cannot understand why, (she's done so much worse, why would she be ashamed of frightening Andromeda a little?)

Before Bellatrix can reach for the floo powder, the fire flares and out walks from the ashes is Narcissa. In that brief moment of bright light, Andromeda sees the pink flush upon her sister's usually pale cheeks and the early bruises blooming on her lips where no doubt Lucius had bitten only a short time earlier. Her chest constricts with envy, why should her sister have her husband and not her as well? "Have fun?" She snaps at the younger girl, making her recoil.

"Andromeda..." Narcissa murmurs.

"No!" She shouts. "You were only supposed to be gone for an hour! Look at the time now Narcissa!"

The girl reddens even further and her nimble fingers wring at her cloak as she argues "Things just took a little longer than-"

"No excuses!" Andromeda cries, cutting off her sister. "You broke your promise and that's all there is to it!" She declares.

"When did you become a Gryffindork sister?" Bellatrix inquiries from her corner of the room, silently shuffling through a set of loose parchments on her desk. "Where's that Slytherin composure we so highly prize?" Lifting her eyes to meet Andromeda's, she comments. "If you don't _control_ yourself, mother and father will realize something strange has overcome us. Do you _wish_ for them to hand us to Dark Lord?" She asks, the look she sends the younger teen nasty and cruel.

Tears escape Andromeda then and in her shame hides them behind a wall of dark curls. "No" she moans. Stalking over, Bellatrix brushes the thick hair aside and lifts her sister's chin making the younger meet her oddly, tender look.

Eyes clear and revealing her own pains, Bellatrix whispers; "you will bury these feelings sister, let no one know what you have lost." Andromeda doesn't feel comforted, but she does understand and therefore nods her agreement. A smile slices across Bella's face, but it is a shadow of the insane grin she wore once-upon-a-time and Andromeda exhales relief at this.

Bellatrix in a spur of affection, presses a kiss to her little sister's temple, then falls down beside her on the bed. Narcissa still waits by the fire, her uncertainty accented by the shadows playing on the contours of her face; Bellatrix smiles at the girl and pats at the bed between her and Andromeda.

"Have a seat 'cissa." The twelve-year-old walks over slowly and then gazes down at her spot, before sitting down hands crossed in her lap primly. Running a hand through the blond tangles, Bellatrix implores "What did you learn sister?"

"Lucius is as we are." She answers simply, her eyes never leaving the fireplace.

"Does he know anything we don't?" Andromeda asks, staring at the side of the younger's face; willing her to meet her own eyes.

"No." She replies, voice hushed and distant. The girl's eyes break from the fire then, with trembling body she gazes down at her lap and whimpers "I want him, I _need_ to be with him."

"We can figure out something;" Bella comforts. "If Lucius starts to come calling, I'm sure father nor mother would mind." She tells the younger girl taking one of her shaking hands.

"Oh! But it's just so _awful_! He's all alone in that manor with only those bumbling elves for company!" She wails into her sister's neck.

Brushing the blond hair in thoughtful strokes, Bellatrix and Andromeda share a look of incomprehension. "What do you mean Narcissa? I know his father's sick, but..." Andromeda trails off, scooting closer to the younger girl.

"That's not the _half_ of it." The girl snivels miserably. "He's _dead_ and Lucius can't let _anyone_ know for fear someone would take advantage of him and his situation, nor because it would leave the child of the man who cursed him without a father and that is something Lucius's father could not live with." She explains to her sisters who can't help but feel betrayed.

"Why didn't _you_ ever tells us this?" Andromeda questions.

Pulling away from Bellatrix's hold, Narcissa frowns deeply at her sisters and hisses. "I did not find out until I married Lucius that his father was dead and that was only because he had to, what would he have said to me when I asked to meet my father-in-law? 'I'm sorry, but he's not around'? Surely neither of you are simple enough to believe that he told me when we were _children._ "

Andromeda ignores the barb, her sister and Lucius always had a strong...affinity for each other and it didn't seem unlikely the boy would have confided in _someone_ after his father's death. "I don't know 'cissa." She answers with a shrug.

"We really don't know each other that well do we?" Bellatrix comments, eyes gazing off into the dying embers.

"No, I suppose we don't." Narcissa agrees.

Andromeda snorts into her hands. "I doubt that's the reason we're here, though, how absolutely _inane_ would that be?"

Bellatrix turns her gaze to settle on the two younger girls lumped beside her on the bed. "Would it be, sister?" She inquires, voice a low rumble.

Andromeda for a moment looks ready to argue, but then her eyes become considerate and she cocks her head to the side. "Maybe not." She finally decides and Bellatrix accepts her decision with a nod of her head.

Narcissa slips her smaller hands into one of each her sisters and whispers. "If that is why, _I_ think it's a very fine reason." Andromeda holds her tongue; she doesn't think so, yet...watching Bellatrix's face take on a gentleness she hasn't seen on her since they were all very small as she combs her long fingers through their baby sister's hair; makes her hope that, possibly, she is wrong.

They are all quiet for a time, none of them willing to break the first calm they've had since they're return. Unfortunately, all is not finished. "We are to see our cousins tomorrow," Bellatrix tells her younger sisters.

Andy groans. "I still don't know why they wish to see us."

"It is out of character for them...I think they are like us." Narcissa hums around a yawn.

"Most definitely." Bellatrix seconds. Seeing that her sister is beginning to drowse on her shoulder; she brings the girl to her lap cradling her. "Perhaps I should carry you to bed?" She implores.

Wrapping her arms around the older Black, Narcissa soaks up the comfort her older sister offers. "Please." She mumbles.

With a half-fake sigh of exasperation, Bellatrix teeters to a stand; Narcissa clinging to her. Bending down, she kisses Andromeda's head and says "Get some sleep Andy."

"I'll try." She answers, but she knows she won't; too many things stalk her in her dreams. Her older sister frowns at her, yet chooses not to argue with her.

"Good night." She concludes.

"G'night." Andromeda calls back, falling back on her bed with a soft thud. Bellatrix carries Narcissa from the room, closing the door behind her. The dark-haired girl strains her ears to listen as Bella puts Narcissa to bed and then as she returns to her own. She doesn't move for another hour before getting up and walking back to her moonlit desk. She has a letter to write. Even if Ted doesn't remember _them,_ that doesn't mean they can't be one again.


	12. Dog Days are Over

Regulus tries hard not to fidget as his poised cousins filter through the floo, but for all his efforts he cannot help but drum his fingers against his thigh. Narcissa falters at the sight of him, something strange clouding her eyes (tears? No, Narcissa's always been too proud for those). In a matter of a few steps, Narcissa is knelt in front of him and hugging him close, (it frightens him).

"It's good to see you well Regulus, love." She whispers to him and the boy can only stare at his cousin with confounded, large, eyes. Sirius nudges him in the shoulder and Regulus scrabbles for an appropriate reply.

"You too." He finally mutters, blushing red and looking down at his feet. Narcissa hesitates, but she does stand up and moves to Sirius. Regulus watches from under his lashes as his cousin gives a strained greeting to his brother before backing away, if Regulus was one for fanciful thoughts, (which he is) he would say she's afraid of him.

Andromeda comes forward next, laying a cool kiss to his cheek and whispering into his ear; "stop fidgeting cousin, no need for nerves." Regulus stills at this, hands pulling themselves into fists. The pleasantries she exchanges with Sirius are warmer, maybe even proud. (Regulus squashes down jealousy he feels, all eyes are on Sirius, be they proud or disappointed; never will he compare). Bellatrix comes forward once Andromeda's fallen back beside Narcissa, but she does not give any welcomes; she stares at both of them.

The teenager scares Regulus, unpredictable, Bella's alway been. He waits, nearly shaking with an effort to stay _still._ Sirius-who's never had much patience-speaks first. "What Bellatrix?!" He barks, teeth barring into a growl. The young woman cocks her head to the side at this and an almost awed expression passes over her face.

"You-" She stops abruptly and takes a breath. "You _do_ remember, don't you?" She murmurs, but it's more to herself than to Sirius or Regulus.

"What of you? What do _you_ remember?" Sirius sneers, crossing his arms. Hurt briefly flashes across Bellatrix's face and it dawns on Regulus that his cousin is _different._

So, like any good brother, Regulus makes an effort to stop Sirius before he makes a fool of himself (like that's ever helped) "Belt up!" He snaps at the taller boy.

Sirius turns betrayed, vengeful eyes on him. "Still a little _weasel_ are you?" He spits; taking a foot towards Regulus he grabs up his collar, nearly choking Regulus in the process. Regulus does his damnedest not to react (which really isn't saying much).

So, while Regulus sputters and coughs, scratching at his brother's arm; Narcissa shouts. "Put him down!" Her wand pointed at Sirius. Regulus's brother glances at her and scowls, no one moves for a breath. Eventually, Sirius snorts and lets Regulus go.

Heaving for breath, the younger only barely catches the next words tossed in this verbal battle. "Just as hasty as ever." Bellatrix remarks, looking at them with (almost) fond eyes.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Sirius demands through his clenched jaw, Bellatrix just smiles. "What does that bloody _mean_?!" Sirius howls.

Bellatrix turns around and gestures to the couches and tea set up just a few feet away from the hearth. "How about we talk about it over tea?" She inquires and Regulus looks from the corner of his eye to see Sirius seething, but incapable of doing anything other than nodding his head.

* * *

Cup of black tea in hand, Regulus stares on perplexed. The girls make benign chatter with one another while Sirius fumes in his spot refusing anything to eat or drink and acting as a bad host all together.

"Don't act so put-out Sirius, tea's supposed to be a light affair." Andromeda comments, reaching over and patting the little boy's knee.

Sirius grumbles something under his breath. "When are we going to _discuss_ what you all came here for then?" He grinds out at last.

Casting sweeping looks about the room, Bellatrix pulls out her wand and casts a silencing charm on the study. "Any time your ready." She answers.

"What the bloody _hell_ is _wrong_ with you!" Sirius (expectedly) explodes.

Putting her dish down, Narcissa sniffs "And what of _you_?"

Sirius gapes at this. "What does _that_ mean?"

"You acted so eager to have us, but once we're here? You behave no better than a common _dog_." She sneers and with that picks up her tea and takes a refined sip. Regulus watches and envies this ability, he wishes he could be as confident as Narcissa (as brave as Sirius, as secretive as Andromeda, as strong as Bellatrix, just _better_ ).

Sirius snaps his teeth at the girl and Regulus finds himself raising an eyebrow, just what happened to his brother since his death? Even before he was disowned, Sirius hadn't been so- _savage-_ it makes Regulus's stomach naw at him strangely.

Quickly feeling like he was falling out of the loop, Regulus whispers "what happened after I died?" Fou pairs of eyes come to rest on him, all equally uncertain and guarded.

"Nothing of much importance." Andromeda finally tells him and Regulus feels his face burn red as tears sting at his eyes. Will everyone always lie to him? Do they think he's so young that he can't handle reality?

Voice a low rumble, he says "I know Bellatrix went to _Azkaban._ "

The teenager recoils in her spot, face frosting white as she stammers "W-Who-"

"Sirius told me." He explains.

The three girls shoot his older brother furious glares and Sirius winces. "I forgot to hold my tongue, sue me." He grumbles and he drops his eyes submissively.

Feeling even more put-out, Regulus cries "I don't need you hiding things from me!" His cousins and brother appear undecided as they share glances. "I'm not a baby!" Regulus yells standing up from the couch. "I'm not _innocent!_ " His family stares at him and Regulus fights not to flush under their stares, he knows he's not the _most_ outspoken of his family, but surely they understand why he's doing this? They can't hide things from him, it will only inhibit them later.

Narcissa looks torn as she brings lacquer black nails to her soft red lips. "Oh Reggie, it's not that we don't _want_ to tell you anything..." She ruminates, fading off in voice. Regulus twitches with tension, just _waiting_ for the excuse his cousin could possibly come up with. Finally, she heaves a great sorrowful sigh and murmurs; "oh Regulus, you died so _early_."

Stiff and maybe more confounded than he was to begin with, the youngest boy cries "What's that supposed to mean? Surely I'm not the _only_ one!"

Sirius shifts his gaze to him and for the first time Regulus can remember, his brother's eyes hold a form of regret. "Regulus, kid, a lot of people died in the first; I'll admit that...but not nearly as many as in the between the first and the second-"

"Even more in the second war;" Narcissa cuts in, then her face a corpse white she whispers "...and after."

"Things always get worse before they get better!" Andromeda bites at Narcissa.

"You call the killing of ex-Death-Eaters and those of undecided alliances a course for the better!?" Narcissa shouts indignant.

"Then what is?" Andromeda demands, two hands upon each rounding hip and chin lifted in an imperious tilt.

Eyes alight with a fury that Regulus had never seen in his cool cousin, she hisses "I know not, but, when did I ever have a chance to consider another?" Andromeda's face further frowns and even quieter, Narcissa utters with wobbling lips "When I was waiting for the _gallows_?"

Lost and a little more than afraid, Regulus turns to his brother and whispers. "Sirius?"

The older boy glances at him and gives him what he supposes is a reassuring smirk, but it falls short when his it struggles to stay in place. "'s alright kiddo," He mumbles; gripping Regulus's hand so hard it hurts.

Bellatrix's stare dart between her fuming sisters, confused, but not as confused as her cousins; she steps forward and puts a hand on either sisters' shoulders. "I don't know what you two are fighting about, but stop." She orders, at Narcissa's mutinous glower and Andromeda's open mouth she hurries on with "it's all in the past." Bella's face twists oddly at this and she mutters; "future. Whatever."

Regulus, who knows Bellatrix is trying very hard for them to all calm down to discuss the issue they're facing can't help himself but to ask. "Gallows?" He questions.

Narcissa turns her bothered gaze to him. "Yes." She croaks. "Myself and my husband just one of the more _prominent_ hung."

"What about you Bellatrix? Andromeda?" and then swirling around implores "Sirius?"

"None of it's pretty Reg" his brother replies.

"So? I need to know." He counters, "just like 'cissa said; I died _early_." The girl cringes and the others seem just as pained.

Sirius puts his hands up and exhales defeat. "Yeah, yeah your right." He agrees and then wagging a finger at his brother, tells Regulus "No details, I'm not giving you nightmares to _wet the bed_ over."

Regulus blushes a pure red and rebukes "I don't wet the bed!" His brother and cousins share vaguely amused looks and Regulus yells "I don't!"

"Of course you don't Reggie." Narcissa agrees, though, she's smiling as she ruffles his hair.

Huffing, he crosses his arms and demands. "Sirius won't you start?"

His brother winces and nods his head. "Might as well, I died next after all..."

* * *

By the time everything's been said, Regulus is so raw and vulnerable he isn't sure he can handle much else; lest he falls into insanity (and isn't he like Bellatrix that way?). Just as the silence that's descended the five Blacks is to ruin them-Sirius-with belated host etiquette, rises from his seat with an offering. "Tea?" He implores. Readily, the groups answers in a chorus of agreement.

A while later after tea and following embraces and chaste kisses of the cheek, Sirius and Regulus watch the last of the sisters disappear into the swirling flames of the floo. The final smile Narcissa cast them echoes from the hearth and leaves the little study empty and colder than it'd been hours before. With abject thoughts swirling in his mind, Regulus doesn't tear his gaze from the dying flames of the fireplace as he gathers courage that isn't his. Lifting his head to stare at his brother's strangely subdue face, the younger boy whispers "This isn't over is it?" Sirius casts him a quizzical glance and Regulus finds himself pouting in frustration. "This _thing_ , whatever it is." Understanding dawns on his brother's blank face and Regulus takes it as a signal to plow on. "This is only going to get harder, isn't it?" He comments, yet it still comes out uncertain.

Sirius casts him a bleak stare and reaches over, pulling the younger roughly against his side. Regulus tries to take comfort in it, but his brother's silence further's his anxiety. Just as he readies to part his lips to ask his question once more his brother clears his throat and nods his head. "Yeah, yeah it is." Relieved, but not, Regulus rest his head on his brother's shoulder. _Things always get worse before they get better..._ His cousin's words echoing in his head, Regulus bites his lip in worry.

Somehow, he hopes Andromeda is wrong this time.


	13. Don't Wake me up, I'm Still Dreaming

Augusta Longbottom glares at her mild pile of reports with frustration, she can't remember a single one of these cases, they had all been so similar and one right after another. When she had looked back on this period of time in her later years, she had come to see a pattern; a beginning to a tragedy no one had realized was sweeping across their little world. With an aggravated sigh, she runs a hand through her smooth hair and falls back in her seat to see her commanding officer striding towards their little section in the large office of Auroras. Blinking, Augusta curiously wonders what's got Don so excited. Waving a paper in the air he booms "Got an interesting reading of magic in a muggle neighborhood."

"So? Probably just some kid doin' accidental magic." A colleague from a desk or two behind her snorts and no matter how sharp she'd considered her memory, she can't name this person. _A recruit that met his end early, I bet,_ Augusta muses.

Don's eyes darken a tad and he shakes his head, waving the paper about a little more. "No, no, accidental maybe, but...definitly not- _benign-_ enough for it be a regular kid." He explains. Tapping her fingers, Augusta wishes Done would just get on with it and hand it off to someone to take care of; preferably, _not_ her. Don doesn't seem to notice any of their disinterest and brings the paper down to read. Squinting his eyes until wrinkles appear he tells them "A little house on the corner of Carpenter's Lane and Spinner's End, ya know, I think there's a registered magical home on that street."

Augusta perks up, Spinners End, huh? Hadn't that waspish potions teacher her grandson wrote home occasionally about when trying to explain his most recent failed grade in that class come from around there? Well, no matter, he'd been proclaimed a hero in the end...and how _scandalous_ had that been? He'd certainly not _looked_ the part of hero, but neither had her Neville... Pondering a bit more, she remembers Lily Potter came from the area too, such a sweet girl she'd been-is-she asserts, she remembers the lovely speech she gave at Frank and Alice's wedding as the Bride's maid.

With this in mind, the woman begrudgingly raises her hand and calls "I'll take it." Don eyes her a tad surprised, (though, she expected it, with the way she'd been moaning about reports this week).

"You sure Longbottom?" He inquires doubtfully.

Making a grabbing motion for the paper with the address she answers "Completely, now fork it over; I want to get it done by this evening."

* * *

Gazing at the small rustic red home with a wrap around front porch, Augusta is struck by the simplicity of muggle dwellings; how little they must be, she wonders if families are closer for it. Walking up to the house, she reaches a screened door and through it hears the quiet sound of what she assumes is a tell-a-vision. Raising a fist, she knocks once and before she can a second; a little girl with bright red hair is standing in the doorway with wide eyes.

Smiling, she asks "Is your mother home lovely?"

The girl gapes open mouth before shaking her head and murmuring "No, she's out getting medicine."

"Medicine?" Augusta mutters in confusion "At this of the year?" Though, she realizes the girl-Lily-she assumes knows she isn't speaking to her if the way she picks anxiously at her skirt is anything to go by.

"Who's sick?" She questions, searching her memories, she vaguely recalls someone mentioning Lily had a sibling..."You're sibling?"

The girl shakes her head, but quits it abruptly to nod. "Severus, mum and dad are working on making him my foster-brother." She explains.

"Severus..." Andromeda hums. "He's the one who's sick?" It would also make sense if he was the sick one, that magical burst no doubt put a strain on the boy's reserves. Kneeling down, she rests her cheek in her hand and inquires "Do you know why he's sick?"

The little girl's face pinches with pain as she nods her head. "Yeah." She mumbles.

Pressing a little more, Augusta asks "What happened?"

Lily's eyes water and her lip wobbles as she snivels "He used up his magic protecting me."

Augusta found herself thrown off a little, she thought Lily was muggleborn..."How do you know about magic?" She questions.

Lily wipes at her eyes and whimpers "Sev."

"Sev?" She repeats, uncertain.

"Severus told me about magic, his mum is-was-a witch." She recounts with a fresh wave of tears. Witch, huh? what are the chances that a magical household would be right down the street from a muggleborn witch? One in a million. Augusta would like to further explore this chance, but knows it's irrelevant.

Gauging the girl for her current state, she sees that this line of inquiries is upsetting the child and with that Augusta decides to wrap it up quick. "Do you know his mother's name?"

"Erm, I think he said something about Princes when talking about what the magical world..." Lily tells Augusta after a pause of thought.

"Prince?" Augusta says a bit surprised. "I remember them, their daughter was a year bellow mine; family almost didn't send her to Hogwarts. They thought it might corrupt her with ideas and keep her from being their perfect heir, always thought it was good she got away...but it seems she traded one hell for another..." Augusta rambles sighing sadly at the end. Lily stares up at her with a pale drawn face, tiny fingers clutching the screen door in a death grip. Realizing that the remark probably wasn't meant for little pitchers, Augusta puts on an apologetic face and murmurs "Sorry love," and then putting on a small smile, whispers "why don't you let take a look at Severus?"

Something akin to relief floods the redhead's face as she opens the door further; large green eyes surveying her nervously, she begs "You'll tell me if he's dying won't you?"

Augusta stops, the girl thinks he's _dying_? Good lord, what did the boy _do_? Feeling a touch more worried, Augusta gives the child a tilting promise of her head. "Of course, I'd need to tell _someone_ where I've taken the boy if that's the case." She explains to the little girl.

Lily's tightly held shoulders slacken and she murmurs "'tuney's home too." Augusta raises an eyebrow, the child blushes and goes on to say "My _real_ sister."

"Ah." Augusta acknowledges, falling silent as Lily takes her down the hall to a propped open door.

The child glances at her anxiously. "He's in here." She whispers pushing the door open to reveal a little girl's dream bedroom, but when Augusta's eyes find the bed the dream becomes a nightmare. A tiny boy-white as death-with mottled bruises dotting his small face is laid out on the bed, breathing quick and pained and beside him is an adolescent girl dabbing tiredly at his face with a piece of flannel.

The girl on the bed's face pulls into a look of disapproval as she sets the flannel back in the bowl beside her. "Lily-" She begins, voice shrill and angry.

"I'm Augusta Longbottom." She introduces, taking a step forward to shake the young woman's hand. The girl squints her eyes distrustfully, but takes the hand and gives it a firm shake.

"Charmed." She drawls.

"I'm going to take a look at Severus, okay?" Augusta implores, searching the girl for any negative reaction.

With a wave of her hand, Petunia is up from the bed and backing away. "Be my guest." She replies with a shrug. Easing down beside the little boy, Augusta feels her heart move to her throat. He's even smaller than her Frank is now, so fragile-no he's already broken-those bruises are aged and that cut above his brow is not doubt going to leave a faint scar someday. Checking the child over, Augusta is relieved to see that even though Severus used a good amount of magic in whatever incident from yesterday that he's only suffering from exhaustion and not from any serious depletion of his reserves.

Feeling almost tender about the little boy in front of her, Augusta reaches out to brush away a lock of midnight hair when Lily cries "Don't you'll w-"

It's too late, Augusta's hand has moved his curling strand of his hair and dark eyes have slitted open only to grow. Suddenly, Augusta is gasping and scrambling to shove the invading mind from her own; how is this possible? A _child_ is a stronger legiliman than _her_? She feels him pull up memories she'd carefully buried in the back of her mind after she'd woken up in this world and with a final burst of power she manages to shove him out of her mind with a scream. Panting, she stares at the boy in front of her. "How" she huffs "can you do that?"

Dark eyes only gaze at her solemn. "Lily" he says.

The girl seems to understand without a word and she swirls around to face her sister. "Go get Sev a glass of water." She orders. The older girl appears ready to argue, but with a mulish grunt from her younger sister leaves the bedroom with a scoff. The second Petunia's out of the room, Lily swings the door shut and locks it.

"Lily!" Her sister yells from the other side, rattling the door once when she bangs a fist. "Don't think I'm not telling mother when she comes home!" The girl warns and with an irritated growl stomps down the hall and away from the room.

Turning back to them, Lily focuses an apologetic pout on her. "Sorry Mrs. Longbottom, can't let 'tuney hear us."

Augusta finds herself at a loss of what to say. "Yes, well," She stammers.

"Mrs. Longbottom" Severus starts, pushing himself up in the bed on weak arms; "Did you ever consider that you aren't the only one?" He inquires.

"What do you mean?" Augusta demands, one hand squeezing her wand as her heart thuds against her ribcage.

"To _remember._ " Severus utters.

"You-You-" Augusta stutters, horribly confused and scared.

"It's alright Mrs. Longbottom, me an' Sev are like you." Lily soothes, coming forward to rest a small hand on her arm.

"Oh my" Augusta swoons, desperately trying to keep from falling over in a faint.

"You can't tell anyone else about us." Severus orders. "Lily's parents don't know, her sister doesn't know and neither does my father." He goes on to tell her.

"I hadn't-" Augusta stops suddenly, taking a large breath she whispers "I thought this was all some sort of dream," staring at the two children with awe she confides in them. "I thought I'd wake up at any moment with little Alice shaking me awake, 'grammy get up! Da's says breakfast's ready' but she hasn't...I've thought it a blessing to wake up everyday after I go to sleep to my husband's bare back and my son at my bedroom door demanding breakfast..."

Lily smiles at her in sympathy. "I know, I feel the same way."

Severus snorts. "I'm just waiting for this to become a nightmare." He declares and Lily swats at him.

"Don't say that!" She hisses, "not everything's meant for ruin!"

The boy only stares blankly back. "Forgive me for being a realist." He grumbles drily.

Lily rolls her eyes, before turning a pleading gaze on Augusta. "You won't take Severus away will you?"

"Why ever would I do that?" Augusta frowns.

The two share a sidelong stare. "Well..." Lily trails off. "He, um, _accidentally_ killed his mum." She answers eventually.

" _What?!_ " Augusta gapes, never had she considered the man capable of killing _family_!

"I thought she'd kill Lily!" Severus protest. "You don't know her! You didn't ssee her!" He shrills, eyes begging for forgiveness.

Augusta feels her heart shatter and then shatter again. There was a reason the boy was here and not with his father, it wouldn't be fair to punish the child for trying to protect the one person he could relate with in all the world. And as it is, there wouldn't be much point to bringing him back to the department for questioning, it would be ruled accidental; even though it obviously took a lot of _intent_ for his mother to be _dead_. The media frenzy it would cause as well...it would all be so _public_ , it would oust them all before they're ready. "I won't." Augusta agrees; it's unfortunate the Prince girl's dead, but maybe she's found the hapiness she so furisouly searched for in life. Turning her face stern, she wags a finger at the boy and demands "but both of you will keep in contact with me, tell me if you learn anything about _this_ " she says waving a hand at her body and then at them.

"You don't know anything then?" Lily cries dismayed.

"-if I hear about any trouble from this area, you'll becoming home with me Severus Snape!" Augusta finishes, ignoring Lily's outburst.

Severus roll his eyes and snarks "Whatever you have in mind is _nothing_ in comparison to _muggle_ schooling." Lily giggles and Augusta can't help but crack a grin.

"Good." She quips, "then I expect not to have to come out this way again."

Severus crosses his arms and smirks. "Yes, you shan't." He agrees.

Standing up, Augusta bows at the pair and explains. "I must be going, I'll explain to my superiors it was just a bit of over the top accidental magic-and Severus, that reminds me, rest well for the next day or two, wouldn't do anyone any good if you ran yourself to death from exhaustion." Severus glares and Augusta chuckles.

"Goodbye Lily and Severus." She says, before disaparating.

In the stillness following Longbottom's exit, Severus turns to Lily. "We need to be more careful, next time it might not be ssomeone ssafe to find us." He remarks. Lily nods her head, because what else is she to do? Severus is right, this isn't a game; whatever's happened is affecting more than just them.


	14. Used to Dream until I Stopped Writing Fiction

Remus knows he's going to _cry_ if he doesn't figure out something soon. He's been trying to write a letter clever enough that no one but the Marauders would understand, but so far, for all his efforts only a basket full of crumpled parchment is what he has to present. With hitched breath, he scratches out his latest sentence before curling up in his desk chair; his tawny hair the only thing still visible from his doorway.

"Why?" He sniffles, "can't I think of a _single_ thing?" Plates clatter from the kitchen downstairs and the sound of those blokes The Flies or some other bug whispers up the stairs and for the hundredth time since he began this project three days ago; Remus realizes he's relieved to know his mother and father think he's just writing a story because he wants to be a _writer_ when he grows up. It's a perfect cover, really.

So, ever so slowly slipping from his seat he walks over to his bedroom door, being mindful of the squeaky floor board four paces from the door and making sure he doesn't stumble over the board to the left of the squeaky board that's corner refuses to be nailed down no matter how many times dad fixes it and then with the speed of creeping sunlight pushes his bedroom door close and locks it with the key he keeps in his pocket. He needs the barrier, Remus can't go like this with his parents hovering just outside his room. Too many things have come and passed these last days and sometimes (okay, always) he thinks if he moves too quick; doesn't stare long enough, responds too slow, everything will disappear and he'll be back in blood-pounding battle, dodging spells meant to maim and kill and in the instant he returns, a spell will strike him and Remus will be right back where he started.

Backing away from his door, Remus's breath hitches and he runs at his bed falling into his lumpy pillow; choked wails and struggling tears coming from him faster and faster. He doesn't know how long he's cried, he just know it feels like it's only been moments and a decade at the same time (he wonders if he'll ever fit his body ever again). Sniffling into the crook of his arm, Remus lets his mind wander. He thinks of his not yet born wife, how much he wishes she was here with him right now, how much he wants her to be alive, how much he would have prefered to be dead than without her, he thinks of the infant son he left behind, the guilt that eats him alive and tells him the poor boy will end up like Harry or like any other numerous orphan throughout history, he thinks of brave James who died for his son and wonders if he's finally matched his friend in bravery (and foolishness), he thinks of Sirius and how quick he was to act and how slow he himself was, he thinks of Peter who turned traitor and wonders if he had been a better, more caring, more considerate friend if Peter would have ever taken such a dark and twisted path and against all of his intentions, he thinks of imposing man of the dungeons; and can't help but ponder if in those dark days he and Severus were equal in their regrets.

Maybe...Remus should write him too? He knows they were never friends, but if James or Sirius or _Peter_ are here, why wouldn't Severus be? More like why _would_ he...Scraping his hand through his thin hair, Remus grumbles "This is making my head hurt" and it is, there are far too many possibilities, angles, views, for him to ever guess who's a likely candidate and who isn't. Flopping restlessly to his back, Remus decides he needs to keep these letters to a minimum; no need to bring more unwanted attention than necessary. Tapping his fingers in an erratic staccato, the werewolf filters through boyhood memories and fancies; trying to find a single _word_ he could mention that would let those he writes he remembers too, if they remember. Fully absorbed in this process, Remus nearly misses the soft knock at his door.

Rolling off his bed, Remus ruffles up his hair and squints his eyes; hoping who's ever on the other side of the door will believe he had been napping. Unlocking the door, he pushes it open and peers up to see his mother with a full plate and glass of milk in hand. "Hungry love?" She implores, voice soft and tender. Remus basks in it;

"Yeah."

She gives him the plate and cup and leans over kissing him on both cheeks before rising up a dreamy emotion on her face. "You know," she starts; "I wanted to be a journalist when I was your age."

Remus perks up a bit for her and asks like he can't believe it "really?"

She grins at a distant memory and nods her head. "Oh yes, I spent days and days writing about fake floods, bank robberies and breathtaking stories of children rescued from fires and kidnappers..."

Remus chuckles. "But that doesn't really happen!" He exclaims, waiting for her reaction as she laughs along with him.

"I know, it was all just school girl fancies..."she answers, "I was getting a degree in English literature when I met your father at a pub just mid way through university and well, we married a year later and just as I was wrapping up college I found out I was having you!" She finishes the tale smiling at him.

"That's when dad told you about magic!" Remus adds in happy to know this part of his parent's and his own story.

"Yes and it tickled me pink to think I could have my very own little wizard or witch." She gushes.

Remus grins around a sip of milk, swallowing quick he chirps; "I'm happy I'm your wizard mum!"

Samantha's reaches forward and brushes a shaking hand through his hair. "I'm happy your my little wizard too." She whispers.

Remus smiles once more and gulps down the rest of his milk, as he finishes it he comes to a conclusion. "You'll be in my story mum." He promises her.

"You don't need to do that-" She starts.

"I want you in it." Remus buts in, gazing seriously at his mother.

Tears well in her eyes and she whispers "Thank you Remus." The child stares at her and then at his dishes; setting them on the floor with a quiet clack, he steps over them and wraps his skinny arms around her.

"You deserve it mum, you deserve a lot more too." He murmurs into her middle. Her long fingers tangle in his brown hair and she kisses him on the head.

"My little wizard" she whispers, arms enclosing them as they sway left to right. "You are so very kind, but I think you'll be best off writing about that clever map of the boys; the adventures they have..."She tells him. Remus stills. The map. The _Marauders map_! It's perfect! A treasure known and invented by only them, no one but a Marauder with their memories in tact would know what he speaks of if he were to use it as code. But what part of it to use as code..."Remus?" His mother implores, pulling away to frown at him.

"I'm fine mum." He assures, "it's just that it's perfect." He elaborates for her when the skin between her brow nits.

"What's perfect? The map?" She questions, seemingly more puzzled than before.

"Yeah!" Remus exclaims. "It's the perfect place to start!" He laughs.

His mother's eyes cloud, yet she nods her head in encouragement. "Yes, I suppose you're right." The woman agrees.

Remus giggles and says "you'll see mum."

Her lips twist into a smile and she quickly brings a hand to smother it. "I guess I will, won't I?" She accepts, amused.

Remus pouts. "You don't believe me." He accuses, petulant.

"Oh no" mother disagrees airily; "I believe you" she says, "you are a clever boy after all."

Remus feels his chest pang. "No, not really" he sighs with a shake of his head, "but I know cleverness when I see it."

Mother thins her lips and leans against the doorway. "Sometimes," she starts, "I feel like your so very grown up." She tells him, but then her eyes shift and she goes on to say "then other times I feel like you are far too innocent."

Remus shrugs at her, what can he say? "Everyone's that way" he states. "You know and experienced certain stuff in one area, but never in another."

"There you go again;" mother mutters, "being too old."

Remus opens his hands to her helpless. "What do you want from me mother?"

She's quiet for a long while; Remus itches to move, to babble, to do _something,_ but he can't. Finally, her aged eyes settle on him and she says in a breath "To be you." Face slowly growing more urgent as the lighting-fast thoughts pass through her mind, she grabs one of his beseeching hands and lays an opened mouth kiss on it. "Don't be anyone but _you_." She begs, tears spilling like lava-hot and burning-on his bare skin.

"I haven't been anyone but me, I might have not let him act, but I never pretended otherwise." Remus mumbles and mother looks so very understanding as she stares at him and wipes the tears away.

"I know," she soothes; "yet, sometime, maybe years and _years_ from today...you'll be convinced that if you are someone else, maybe better, maybe worse, those you care for or respect will like you _more._ " Mother tells him in hushed tone, passing wisdom from mother to son.

"Okay." Remus utters not accepting or denying, just _understanding_.

Mother backs away, in a blink she's a willow in the doorway, yielding, yet still unbroken. "Good" She replies and then slowly turns away, walking back down the creaky stairs and back to her duties as mother and wife of the Lupin home.

Remus stays there, unmoving; he uses the quiet to absorb everything and take a lung-filling breath. Finally calm, he moves to close his door to all but a crack and picks up his empty cup and plate of lunch. Taking it to his desk he sets the dishes aside and carefully picks up a piece of a new piece of parchment to lay in the center of his desk. Gazing at the blankness, Remus plucks his quill from its spot in the inkwell and deliberately plots;

_I solemnly swear..._


	15. I'm the Hero of this Story

He stands mouth dry and hands curled in damp fists while his young wife turns her head back casting him one last sorrowful smile as she steps into the devouring flames, Lucius's eyes dilate and his heart bangs against his chest like a beast kept from its family; he shoves one of his fists into his mouth successfully choking him from pleading her to stay. It would not do, not for a Malfoy to stoop so low as to _beg_ (but, was that true any longer? Hadn't it been his downfall to agree with such teachings in the end? Not to show remorse, not to show mercy, not to give away what could turn into a weakness?)

"No!" He gasps, arms jerking out trying to grasp for his one weakness, before she could be turned and used against him. Yet, it is too late, only wisping flames dying away just like his hope are left in this dark, unforgiving mansion. The blond wheezes puffs of panicked breath, trying and failing to control his emotions as they rage inside him; he _needs_ her, _he needs her_!

But, he can't have her.

Bitters tears well in his eyes and Lucius decides then to find his father's Fire Whiskey to take the ache from his rawness. Stumbling from his boyhood room, he finds himself in his (father's) study and pulling his wand from his robe pocket, points it at the cabinet he knows father kept his stash in. The dark doors clatter open and without thought for their state, Lucius feels the top shelf until his fingers brush a cool glass; with scrabbling fingers, he manages to grab hold of it well enough to pull it from the cupboard and nearly drop it on his toes in his haste to have it. Popping the top, Lucius downs the liquid relishing the burn and ignoring the steady dribble that falls from the corner of his lips and the trails of tears that scorch his cheeks. Suddenly, he yanks the bottle away heaving and gasping for breath; warmed and mellowed, Lucius stares at the half empty bottle with a smile. If he drinks a bit more, maybe, Lucius will be able to sleep without fear of terrors that surely will visit him in his dreams. Bringing the glass back to his lips, Lucius gulps down more the whiskey.

In no time at all, Lucius feels the darkness ebb at his conciousness and drag him into drunken slumber.

* * *

Mid morning, sunlight shining painfully on his eyelids; Lucius rolls over with a groan and one hand coming to rub at his forehead. Urgh. Need Pepper Up. Struggling to his feet, Lucius wanders to the desk and feels about the drawers for any bottles that may contain the potion he wants, when he's incapable of finding a Pepper Up he collapses to the floor once more with a whine. Where can he get a Pepper Up? And for that matter, who will sell it to a boy of his age (who's so clearly hung over)?

Severus.

The names pops into mind without Lucius's usual censor in place. His head reels at the thought, Severus Snape, how'd he been awed by the man and the boy, how betrayed he'd felt by his actions in the first war and how quickly he'd been willing to trace them in the second if it meant his boy would be saved. It had taken him a decade at least, but Lucius could safely say the two were friends in the end.

Lucius pulls himself to his feet with the help of the desk and he makes to Floo to Spinner's End, when his clouded mind manages to produce doubt. What if the child doesn't remember as he does? Lucius stands for a while trying to come up for a reason why he _wouldn't_ when the blond decides he doesn't care one way or another. If he does, then he'll brew him his Pepper Up; if he doesn't, Lucius bet's he'll still probably be able to brew him the Pepper Up (that genius bastard). So, it's a win win either way. Though, now that he considers it, Lucius thinks it'd be better to apparate to Spinners End; the shack probably isn't even connected to any Floo network. Without thought for his condition or age, the blond boy disappears from his home with a crack.

He lands on a browned lawn beside a sinking porch, Lucius blinks his eyes rapidly trying to adjust to the light and lessen the shock of pain the brightness causes. When he feels well enough to move without falling over, the blond makes his way up the creaky steps and knocks heavily on the door.

Moments later a tall, dark-haired man with red eyes answers the door. "'s Severus here?" Lucius inquires.

The ugly face twists and suddenly he's hollering curses and insults at the Malfoy Heir, backing up a step, Lucius takes that as a no. Well, where would the bastard be then? Lucius ponders. Walking away and ignoring the stares that were beginning to come from opened doorways and windows all around the block Lucius walks down the block to stop abruptly at the corner of Baker's and Spinner's. That mudblood's house! He'll be there, Lucius has no doubts.

Scurrying to the house he remembers Severus once pointing out to him when he came to visit, he runs up the white steps to knock on the screen door when a dark-haired boy and redheaded girl appear from around the corner of the house.

"What are you doing here?" The little boy demands.

Lucius smirks at him, but any superiority it would have had fades when he stumbles down the steps. "Need a Pepper Up" Lucius grunts.

The girl frowns at him and Severus rolls his eyes. "You'll need more than a Pepper up," he remarks; then nostrils flaring he inquires "just how much did you _drink_?"

"All of it." Lucius answers, swaying as he struggles to stand tall and intimidate the younger children.

Severus raises an eyebrow and comments "you aren't dead."

"Malfoy's don't do alcohol poisoning." Lucius sneers and the younger snorts his amusement.

"Why don't you come inside? People are beginning to stare." Lily offers, reaching out to latch onto Lucius's sleeve.

"Whatever." He murmurs allowing the two children to drag him inside.

"Who's _that_?" A brunette aks, face one of disgust.

"My friend." Severus pipes up, dumping Lucius into a kitchen chair.

"What's he doing here?" The girl huffs.

"He's _ssick_ " Severus snaps, then with a condescending tone adds " _obviously_ " under his breath.

Crossing her arms the girl glares. "He better be gone by the time mum gets home," she warns. "Mum and daddy don't have the money to take in another kid, you know." She tells him and Lucius watches almost mystified as his friend flinches and hunches his shoulders.

"Cut it out Tuney!" The girl shouts at her sister, "that's not fair and you know it!"

The girl holds up her head and walks out of the room with one last jab. "You freaks better not make a mess."

"I hate her sometimes!" Lily hisses, an angry stare focused on the doorway.

Severus ignores her as he begins to poke and prod Lucius. "Quit that." Lucius hisses, pulling away as the younger pulls at his robe sleeves trying to peer at his arm.

"I just want to-"

"I know exactly what you want," Lucius counters viciously; "I'm just as pure as you now!" He spits causing the dark head to recoil.

"Don't talk to Sev like that!" The redhead yells at him.

Lucius curls his lips into a snarl, what do these _children_ have on him? They're just filthy mudbloods, he's as pure as they get. "I'll talk to him _and_ you however I please!" He rebukes.

Severus's eyes flash, his hand searches out Lily's and in a moment of defiance declares "if you don't behave you can ssay goodbye to any help from _me_."

Lucius grins with a flair of superiority and counters; "say goodbye to my good word if you refuse to listen to me."

Severus frowns, looking less rebellious by the second. "We don't need you! Mrs. Longbottom promised to help us!" Lily counters, squeezing her friend's hand.

Lucius finds himself stunned. "How-" He chokes himself off abruptly and nervously murmurs "she remembers too, huh?" The pair stare on in confusion as Lucius further pales. "How are we supposed to keep track of this? What if someone dangerous remembers?" He whispers on the verge of panicking.

Severus reaches over and pats his knee. "We can't," he tells him and Lucius wants to argue; shout at the younger boy, there must be _some_ way no matter how small to keep track of who and who doesn't remember. Then, Severus concludes "we just stay out of the spot light, try and behave as typical as possible."

Lucius sneers. "Easy for you to say, hiding out here in the _muggle_ world!" He spits and Severus shakes his head with a sigh.

"Usually he's not _this_ pig-headed." The younger boy mutters to his friend.

"Then why _is_ he _now_?" Lily grumbles.

Severus pauses, mind working rapidly to seek out an answer and Lucius can only wait in miserable silence; knowing it's only a matter of moments before-

"His father died the other day." Severus states.

"Bravo!" Lucius drawls with a sarcastic clap.

The girl looks close to tears and Severus actually has to restrain her from leaping on him, Lucius appreciates this. "I'm _so_ sorry!" Lily sniffs. Lucius grunts and looks away (he can't see her tears, he'll start crying too).

"Lily" Severus says, grabbing the girl's attention.

Her fiery hair flows as she turns to look her friend in the eye. "What?" She demands.

"Not now," Severus says to her, "why don't you get Lucius ssomething to eat and drink?" He suggests in a soothing inflection. "I doubt he's eaten or had anything since-"

"I get it." Lily buts in, "you want to talk. _Alone._ " She fumes and with a final stamp of her foot disappears from the room, leaving Severus and Lucius alone.

"She didn't have to leave." Lucius tells his friend, "I don't want to strain your friendship." He doesn't care to add again, but he knows it's implied if the way Severus glances away is anything to read into.

Severus rolls his eyes and flops down on the sofa beside him. "Lily's a bleeding heart, I've always know that; letting her sstay would only hinder what we need to discuss." He explains with a sigh.

Observing the boy, Lucius notices fading bruises and scabs on his face; the lisp is new too. "Who'd you get into a tussle with?" He inquires and unbidden sweat beads on his neck in fearful anticapation of the answer.

"A belt." Severus replies with disgusted curl of his lips.

"Ah." Lucius murmurs softly, he itches to know the right words; alas, of all the hardships he's faced, an abusive guardian is not one of them.

"Indeed" Severus mutters lips thin and eyes focused hatefully on the ground.

"I was hung." Lucius supplies in a way of barter and apology.

Severus (finally) looks at him again, shadow eyes astonished. "Truly? Just like that?" He presses.

"No, I fought for my son's life first." The older boy answers. "They wanted him too-" He cuts himself off, holding back tears at the thought of the back of the regal blond he glimpsed in his final seconds. "I stopped them in the end; I couldn't save myself, but that didn't matter any more." He concludes, eyes rising up to search Severus for his response.

Severus in a rare display of physical support places his pale hand on Lucius's wrist. "You won," he whispers fiercely "you did what you set out to do;" Lucius waits in hushed silence for Severus to impart him with a knowledge he did not remember giving. "You saved your son." Severus concludes staring at Lucius with eyes of alight coal.

Lucius doesn't speak. He can't. He won. He saved his son. That's all he ever wanted, he wanted Draco safe. Suddenly he's breathing again, dry gasping sobs fall from him unwanted and he attempts to stop the tears spilling from him with the heal of his hands. "I won," Lucius hiccups; " _I won._ "

Yet, he can't help but still feel like he's the one who lost.


	16. We will not let Time Erase us

James drops to his bed with a bone-deep sigh, curling into a loose ball. After he's sunk into his sheets, his mind plays out the brief conversation between him and his mother from earlier that day;

_"So secretive these days...maybe you'll be a Slytherin yet, like your uncle."_

_"No. No, I'm too easily read, like dad."_

_"Yes...I suppose you're right."_

James presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to block out his mother's wistfully disappointed face; he _knows_ she loved her brother (slimy Slytheriness and all), but James sometimes (always) wishes she could be more like dad and not seek out similarities between him and her dead brother. James has been trying, trying to behave as boisterous and wildly as he always had...but no matter how hard he tries, he only half-suceeds. James is not an actor, he's too open for that; though he's done well enough to shake off the majority of his parents' worries and suspicions.

James lets out a woosh of breath and slackens his body in an attempt to force himself to rest when a tap-tap-tapitty-tap echoes off the thick panes of his bedroom window. disgruntled, he shoves himself from his bed, a hand running through his perpetually messy as he stalks over to open the window. Unlatching it, the simple barn owl hops as the window comes out before roosting once more upon the sill. James eyes the bird wearily, it doesn't _look_ dangerous, but why would anyone one be mailing _him_? He nine. Well, in body anyway, "Who do you belong to, huh?" James inquires reaching out to run a bitty finger down one of its wings. The bird ruffles and hoots around the letter, nearly dropping it; "hey!" Jame yelps, snatching up the parchment before it can fall. The bird gives James an infuriatingly pleased look and with a quick secession of hoots is off and away in the wind, leaving James alone with the cheap paper resting in his hand. Scowling, James grumbles "Bloody owls"; James never did care for the creatures sense of humor.

With a sigh, he turns his attention to the letter; frowning he decides at least it isn't _fancy_ , that would only mean trouble. Turning it over in his hands, it slowly seeps into James that this letter, it could only be from- _Moony_ -his heart _soars._ Elated, James rips into the letter and reads the single line written within;

_I solemnly swear..._

James belly bubbles up with laughter, he tumbles to the carpeted floor and his arms wrap around his middle instinctively; _Moony,_ always the cleverest of them. Eventually, the laughter ebbs away to the sporadic chuckle and he rises up wiping the tears wetting his cheeks. " _Thank you_ " he breathes to the world, hoping whatever embodies it will hear him and pay acknowledgement. Bringing himself up on coltish legs, James stumbles to his desk and without hesitation scribbles;

 _I'm up to no good_.

Setting his quill aside, he lifts the sheet up and admires it in the wan light. Careful neat letters followed by his own, messy and hasty; it's been far too long since he and Remus last exchanged letters, not since he and the family-

No, he wasn't going to think about that. He couldn't, he just _couldn't_! Swallowed up in a torrent of childish feelings; he snivels and trembles, fighting the horror story images that plague his mind. Squeezing his eyes closed, he slams his hands over his ears trying to block out the recollections as he screams "Nooo!"

A few minutes later, the future fades; leaving James sweaty and ill as he tries to grasp that he is _safe-_ well, relatively speaking anyway, no where was ever _entirely_ safe-exhaling, he falls back into his seat. He doesn't do anything for a few minutes, waiting for time to tick on; remind him that he isn't _dead._ When secure in his reality, his thoughts naturally carry back to the answered letter waiting on his desk for mailing. Picking it up, James creases it closed a second time and returns to his window. Then sticking his fingers in his mouth, he whistles out the still open window; within a matter of seconds a family owl is resting in front of him awaiting James's orders. Smiling, James pets the critter's head as he hands it the letter; "take that to Remus Lupin, got it?" He croons at the animal and with a trill she's off in a flurry of feathers.

Settling back, the boy anxiously paces the room waiting for a reply. Possibly an hour later (maybe longer), his owl returns; a letter caressed in her beak. Jumping up from his bed in a jumble of limbs, James nearly spooks the owl as he snags the letter from her mouth.

"Thanks Biddy." He coos at the owl before side-stepping to his desk to grab up a biscuit and give it to the bird who nips the tips of his fingers as she eats up the morsel. James winces, but doesn't retract his fingers as she pecks the crumbs from his palm and flies off into the fading day light. James holds the letter in his hands for a while, torn between anxious feelings and excitement; licking his lips, he slips a finger under a corner and centimeter by centimeter, the boy pushes it up. He sees as he further unfurls the parchment that's it filled from top to bottom, corner to corner with crammed-yet measured words-His eyes rove the near incomprehensible blob; nevertheless, he finds a beginning.

_James, you don't know how happy I am; well, maybe you do? You ARE like me after all, I've missed you Prongs; so did Sirius...hopefully I'll hear back from him soon and then I can tell him about you too. How are you? Do you have any idea what's going on or are you just as confounded as me? Have you tried to get in contact with anyone else, I'm sure if Lily recalls the past (or is it the future?) she must be waiting on you mate. I'm sorry, I must sound like a lunatic so far; it's just been so LONG mate, you've missed so much, so many things...I'll just give you the highlights for now; first off, Harry lived and "defeated" the Dark Lord, but he came back later, Sirius went to Azkaban because everyone was under the impression HE was the one who turned traitor and killed those muggles...I bet you know who the real traitor is though, don't you? Nevermind; highlights, highlights...Harry's Gryfindor, he's praised as the savior of the wizarding world (though, he's very humble; more like Lily that way, wouldn't you say?) After he came to Hogwarts, he made friends with a Weasley and a muggle born witch, they're a tight little trio; maybe not as mischievous as us, but they have a penchant for trouble none the less. Towards the end of my own life, Sirius died in confrontation at the Ministry; (fell into the veil, if your curious) I myself married and had my own son, Theodore Remus Lupin, quite the experience having a child is, isn't it? I never thought I could love and fight in the name of just a single soul...but I did, I fought in the light's last stand; on the grounds of Hogwarts and I...I died, I died so my son might have a better world..._

_I always did wonder, James, what did you die for?_

_Please write back soon, I would like to set up a time to meet with you if it's possible;_

_Remus J. Lupin_

James quakes, he falls to the floor and desperately tries to stop the trembling of his hands fearing the sheet will rip. He _lived,_ his _son,_ _he lived;_ A woosh of air slips from his parted mouth. Maybe, just possibly, everything hasn't been for naught; little Harry lived, he lived and thrived; hailed the hero James always dreamed he'd be one day.

 _"He's special, just look into those eyes Lils"_ James had told his wife the day after Harry was born in a moment of peace.

 _"They're the same as mine, Love"_ She'd answered with a happy quirk of her lips.

 _"Well, I knew you were special when I met you too! It's those emerald eyes I tell you!"_ James had argued back in a bout of silliness.

" _You silly man_." Lily had teased leaning up from her spot in search of a kiss and James had been happy to oblige...

"Lily" He murmurs. He needs to write her. He needs to _know_ , he can't stand another second of not knowing if she remembers their life and their child like he does or if she's...James can't bring himself to think the thought.

Groping for his desk chair, he tugs himself up on wobbling legs and takes up two fresh sheets of parchment from his desk drawer before crawling into his chair. Biting his nails, he stares at the will be letters and struggles to choose who to write to first; Lily or Remus...

_Lily,_

But, wait, he can't. She's in the _muggle_ world, he doesn't even know her childhood home's address...it pains James to know he never cared to learn his wife's nuances or her finer history, but James know once he finds her it will never be the case again; James will treasure every bit of her, from her most mundane habits to the way her hair trails behind like a flag of fire...Swallowing back the sobs, he crumples up what would be Lily's letter and tosses the rubbish behind him and drags the blank parchment in front of him. He pauses for all of a moment, before he begins to write;

_Remus,_

_I've missed you too Moony..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a side-story featuring the courtship of Walburga and Orion Black now up. 
> 
> Thanks for all of the kudos, bookmarks, comments and hits so far guys! I appreciate it. :)


	17. Put your Hand in my Hand

Walking into what _had_ been her warm and quiet home, Julie nearly drops her groceries at the scream that vibrates through the house "I _HATE_ YOU _SEVERUS SNAPE_!" Falling back against the door in shock, she catches a glimpse of a blond boy in her kitchen through the doorway; he seems to notice her too, if the embarrassed reddening of his ears is anything to go by. She doesn't recognize the child, but he seems to be around Petunia's age; possibly one of her friends?

"Lily!" Severus cries and a door up stairs slams.

Mrs. Evans sighs, she had hoped having a boy in the house wouldn't increase the drama; she hoped wrong. Ignoring the fight for the time being, she walks into the kitchen to find that the boy is wearing an odd robe with a hood over a pair of silk green pajamas. She props an eyebrow up in question and the boy fidgets. Putting the groceries on the counter, she comes to crouch in front of the child's chair and putting on the biggest smile she can muster she asks softly "Who might you be, love?" The boy's mouth opens, he closes it with a click and flushes even redder than before. Julie laughs not unkindly and introduces herself instead. "Hullo, I'm Petunia's mother, you can call me Julie."

The boy seems to regain his speech (and manners) because he thrust his hand out to her and answers back "Lucius Malfoy." Taking up the offered hand, the woman nods as she shakes it.

"So, what brings you here?" She inquires, when feet slap against the floor's linoleum. Turning around, Mrs. Evans sees Severus in the doorway his young face scrunched in held back hurts.

His dark eyes are on Lucius when he speaks. "She _hates_ me!" The again doesn't need to be said, Lucius still feels painfully responsible. Yet, it isn't Lucius who has to do the comforting because without another word from Severus, Lily's mother is at the younger boy's side, wrapping her arms around him as she shooshes him with a hand combing through his (clean) hair.

"Oh love, she's just a bit upset. Pet says the same to Lily sometimes, but she doesn't actually _hate_ her." Julie soothes as the boy stands silently in her grip. Severus begins to twist and turn so she let's him go to see tears have spilled down his cheeks.

"That's a lie! Petunia _does_ hate Lily because she's a-" He stops, lips pressed in a thin line. Mrs. Evan's chortles nervously; Pet doesn't hate Lily, does she?

Seeing that this could very quickly go down a dangerous path, Lucius pipes up "Mrs. Evans, I'm here on behalf of my father-Severus's Godfather-he wishes for him to come stay with us."

Lily's mother glances at the boy, she doesn't know what kind of father just lets their child walk out of the house in a robe and pajamas or why Severus hasn't mentioned them before, but she doesn't think a bit of a fib can hurt. "Well, he'll have to go to court; we've adopted Severus."

Lucius's face falls. "Oh," then with pleading eyes, he implores "could he come for a visit some weekends?" At the woman's uncertain nibbling of her thumb, Lucius quickly adds "Father's usually off on business, he could come over on the weekends he's not there?"

"Who watches you when your father's not home?" Mrs. Evan's asks a bit alarmed.

Lucius shrugs. "The maid, she's there most of the time." She gives him the most pitying stare Lucius has ever seen and he has to hold back the growls and insults that want to spew from his lips.

"Love, you can come over and see him anytime you like." She tells him and Lucius forces his shoulders to slump in relief and put on the winning smile he often used as a boy.

"Thank you Mrs. Evans." He replies.

"Julie, love." She corrects with a smile.

Lucius just nods, before hopping up from his chair and brushing dirt from his clothes. "I best be going, I didn't think to change after I got the letter from the authorities this morning." He explains, faking an embarrassed smile.

Severus's adoptive mother accepts the lie for truth and nods her head as if it all makes sense now. "Do you need a lift?"

"No thank you," Lucius declines "I called someone just before you got here, I told them to wait around the corner." He says to her.

She smiles. "Alright, remember to come by anytime." Julie agrees.

"I'll show you out." Severus offers, snagging his friend's sleeve as they walk towards the front door. When they are outside, he pushes it closed with his shoulder and glares at Lucius. "What were you thinking? Making stuff up like that."

The older boy just shrugs. "I assumed whatever I made up would be accepted easily enough once I gauged a bit more information from her."

Severus scowls furiously at him. "Don't." He orders, "she's good, her husband's good, they're going to let me stay here." He informs Lucius in his snappy sort of way.

"I saw." Lucius agrees with a bit of a smirk, but as quickly as it came it falls as he apologizes "I didn't mean for her get upset with you."

Severus waves a tired hand. "When I told her to leave the room, I expected her to get upset; just not.."

"That upset?" Lucius supplies.

Severus sighs and nods. "Yeah, not that upset." Then, biting his lip, he glances at Lucius from the corner of his eye as he faces the road pretending to gaze at the sky. "If things...if things don't work out here," he whispers, "can I come stay with you?" He implores.

Lucius claps a hand on the younger boy's shoulder and ignores the way he flinches. "Yes, of course," he cements readily, "but..." at this, Severus's hair droops into his face hiding his eyes; holding back a smile Lucius whispers "I don't think you'll need to."

Severus's lips flicker upwards and Lucius let's his own tilt up as well. "Thanks." He says and Lucius accepts this with a lift of his chin.

"I'll stop by sometime next week," he offers and Severus bobs his head once and Lucius continues with "I might bring Narcissa with."

Severus's eyes widen "Then does she?"

"Yeah, her older sisters too" Lucius replies and then after a moment of doubt, he adds in "Regulus and his brother as well..."

Severus scowls. "Of course the mutt-!"

Lucius exhales, he understands Severus's sentiment, but doesn't agree. "Andromeda's happy to have him" the older boy tells him.

"She would" Severus grumbles.

"What if I brought him by? What if Lily wanted to see him?" Lucius inquires.

Severus's face twists into something mournful and he sneers "She's still pining for that _prick_."

Lucius shakes his head and warns "Don't let her catch you saying that, it'll only make her more upset."

The dark-haired boy's shoulders quiver. "I know."

Squeamish of the direction of their conversation, Lucius decides to wrap things up. Bending down, to put him and the younger child on equal terms; Lucius whispers "If you need anything..."

"I know." Severus says shifting his glance away. "Next week?" He questions uncertainly.

"Yeah, next week." Lucius reiterates, he reaches out and gently takes a dark strand between his fingers "I don't think you've ever had your hair this clean."

Severus frowns and blushes. "Well, didn't have much shampoo at home and...potion fumes aren't know for keeping hair shiny."

Lucius grins mischievously and prompts "Maybe you could come up with a potion to keep hair safe from constant potion smoke." Severus's eyes flash and he bares his teeth, but Lucius is able to spy the happy curve of his eyebrows and so just laughs when Severus threatens to make potion that makes hair permanently greasy. Standing up straight, Lucius comments "Next time I'll have to bring a portkey, it's not such a good idea to be aparating so much."

"By Lucius." Severus says and the blond casts him one quick grin before disappearing from sight.

Severus stays on the porch for a long while before sighing. "I can't stay out here forever" he murmurs to himself.

"No, you can't." Twirling around, he finds himself surprised to see Lily standing there with tear-stained cheeks.

"Lily!" He exclaims, half delighted, half wary.

"I shouldn't have gotten so mad." She mutters.

Severus shakes his head and disagrees. "You had every right, I behaved like you didn't deserve knowing what was going on."

Lily frowns at her friend. "Stop taking so much blame Sev."

He cocks his head to the side and asks "Who's fault is it then?"

Lily absent-mindedly twirls a strand of fire-red hair on her finger and muses "just how many people started blaming you for stuff after I died? Before even..." Severus gapes open mouthed and helpless in giving a fair estimate. "Too many, I see" Lily sighs at her friend's speechlessness.

Stepping forward, she wraps the skinny boy in her arms and whispers "it's going to stop now, any blame that comes your way it's not yours unless they can give solid proof."

Severus is still against her when his voice-muffled by her shoulder-inquires "What if _I_ have proof it's my fault."

"Then you'll talk to me," she answers firmly "because you obviously don't know what does and doesn't fall under you jurisdiction."

One of his hands comes to curl around a thicket of her hair as he asks "who's at fault this time?"

Lily laughs breathless into his neck. "One track mind," she remarks amused; "this time, I think it's both of us."

Severus pulls away and with searching eyes demands "How?"

"Well..." Lily drawls, "I overreacted and you didn't trust me.

"Of course I trusted you!" Severus counters.

Lily takes a step back and looks around her friend. "Not enough for me to stay in the room while you and Lucius talked" she argues.

"Lily, that was for Lucius." Severus frowns, then holding out his hands he mumbles "I thought he'd be more comfortable talking if..."

"I wasn't in the room" Lily finishes.

"Yes, he hates ssympathy; it's all pity as far as he's concerned." Severus explains.

"Why didn't you just tell me that?" Lily huffs, arms crossing in indignation.

"Right in front of him Lily?" Severus sneers.

Lily seethes for a moment before sputtering "well, yes!"

Rolling his eyes, Severus snarks "That would have gotten him to talk alright."

"You make me so mad sometimes!" Lily shouts.

"And your irrational!" Severus accuses.

Lily opens her mouth to return the insult, when she thinks better of it. "Let's not fight anymore." She decides.

Severus blinks. "Okay" then frowning he murmurs "I guess?"

"Mum might be making lunch, want to go help?" Lily suggests holding out a hand for him to take.

Severus's face briefly lifts in a smile and it makes her insides melt (so darling, Lily thinks, he should smile more). "Ssure" he agrees grasping her hand in his as they head back inside.


	18. Poor Little Rich Boy

Andromeda takes small bites of the porridge that the elves brought for breakfast and glances about the table in a casual (assessing) way, she finds herself relieved and pleased to find things calm (this is what one would call a  _good_ meal in the Black household). But, the calmness breaks at the sound of flapping wings as an owl swoops in through the open window and drops a letter in Narcissa's porridge. She cringes as she pulls it from the substance and dabs at it with the napkin from her lap before even attempting to open it. Father's hard eyes are on the younger teen as she reads it;

"Well?" He demands.

Narcissa, always poised, sets the letter aside and looks father in the eye as she answers. "It's from Lucius Malfoy, father," their sire only lifts an eyebrow, looking down to the burgundy table cloth then to her father again she says in a softly tone, "He invited me to a trip to Diagon Alley."

Father's brow furrows and he strokes at his gotee. "You're a bit young for boys yet Narcissa..."

Bellatrix, gaze darting between the two, quickly pipes up, "I could chaperon if you like."

Feeling more and more left out, Andromeda bursts, "If they get to go I should be able to go to!"

Father's fist slams against the wooden table, causing mother to shrink in her seat and the girls to still. "I haven't even said she can go!" He bellows angry at the lack of respect for his 'authority', Andromeda holds back a sneer; a man who wields wand and fists over words is and always will be weak in her mind.

Yet, before father can rampage, Narcissa bats those thick lashes over her baby blues and asks in a tiny, sad, (infuriating) voice "Then I can't go...? I heard that Mr. Malfoy's been sick lately, I hoped-nevermind."

Father's intensity lessen and he seems to gradually regain the human in him. "I see," he mutters, "If your sisters go with, I suppose I could allow it." He conceeds and with a brilliant smile, Narcissa leans over pressing an adoring kiss to their father's cheek.

"Thank you father." She gushes, eyes shining with gratitude that makes the man's chest puff out in pride.

"Of course, Narcissa." He smirks and Andromeda finds herself despairing at his behavior, nothing about him's any different that what she remembers from before she left home. He's doting father to Narcissa, authoritarian to Bellatrix, and indifferent to Andromeda; it's behavior like this that had stopped her from having more children, fearing she would turn out like him; or mother. Out of depth.

Sighing lowly into her bowl, all Andromeda can think is  _nothing, not a **thing** has changed._

* * *

Meeting Lucius Malfoy just shy on noon, he smiles at them and reaches out both hands to take hold of Narcissa's; "I've missed you," he confides in her.

Gaze darting about, she quickly leans in pecking his lips. "As have I," she whispers. They fall apart, only their pinkies hooked as they begin to stroll down the street, they whisper and chatter of things they don't care to tell Andromeda and Bellatrix. Slowly, second by second, titter by titter, Andromeda begins to feel despair and at a loss. Bellatirx, in rare show, hooks arms with her younger companion and with a teasing grin leans in to whisper;

"Ah, puppy love."

Andromeda ends up hiding a snort behind a hand, "puppy love" indeed!

A few minutes later, Bellatrix comments, "Maybe we should find a place to eat, hm?

The two blonds turn, Lucius short and not fully grown into parts of his face nods his head. "Yes, then we can discuss what I really need to talk with you all about." Walking further down the block, they come to a lesser travelled pub and walk in to find it empty of all but the bartender, and a man reading the paper at the counter. Taking a booth, the bartender wanders over;

"What do you kids want?" He asks.

Bellatrix leans her elbows on the table and grins up at him. "Four butterbeers please" she orders.

The man grunts and leaves, the group relaxes and wait in silence until the bartender comes back a couple of minutes later to drop the sloshing drinks in front of them; scowling, Lucius slaps down some knuts as payment and watches the old man count them before leaving the table. Sipping at her drink, Andromeda waits for whatever big news Lucius wants to impart to them.

After downing half of his glass in a fairly undignified way, Lucius exhales a breath. "I went and saw Severus Snape the other day," he begins.

Stirring her finger in her drink, Narcissa glances at her husband and inquires, "How is he? I hope you didn't frighten the boy."

Lucius glares. "He's like  _us_ " the blond whispers.

Andromeda's go huge. "Really?" She awes in fascination, she knows Harry believed him a hero, but she had her doubts; wouldn't this be the perfect way to find out once and for all?

"Yeah," Lucius sulks, "He's staying with that mudblood Lily Evans."

Andromeda curls her fingers into a fist and Narcissa swats at her husband's shoulder. "Don't use that word," She grumbles, "You'll get the wrong sorts attention."

" _Muggleborn,_ then," Lucius corrects with little enthusiasm. "Anyway, I need a way to convince the girl's parents to allow Severus to come stay a week or two with me."

"Why?" Andromeda questions, not following the boy's train of thought.

Lucius rolls his eyes at her. "He was held in not only the Lord's high esteem, but Dumbledore's as well, he's going to know much more than the rest of us;" he explains, "And if we want to stop a war or end it easier..."

"We need him." Bellatrix concludes.

Lucius nods his head. "Exactly," he agrees.

"He's staying with the Evan's? Why?" Andromeda inquires.

Lucius cringes. "I haven't yet heard why," he mutters, "But, I can tell it's not...pleasant."

"How?" Andromeda demands with intensity, not willing to let the subject drop.

Glaring at her, Lucius hisses. "He was bruised, missing a tooth."

The teenager falls back against the booth, eyes wide. "Oh," she murmurs.

Bellatrix pats her hand and asks Lucius a different question. "What do you have in mind Lucius?"

"Hm?" He mumbles around his glass, "Well," He starts after setting his mug down, "I need someone older, someone who can convince the muggles to let Severus comes stay with me for a while."

Tapping her chin in contemplation, Bellatrix asks "What did you tell them before?"

"Said my father's away on business quite a bit and that a maid keeps watch over me most days." He tells the older teenager.

"Maid..." Narcissa muses, suddenly, her face lights up in a brilliant smile. "Why don't you go with him Bella?"

The brunette frowns. "What?"

"You're the oldest of us," Narcissa muses, "Young, but, definitely old enough to pull off being a maid." She elaborates.

Bellatrix squints her eyes. "I have no desire to be something so- _common-_ " She spits at her sister.

"Don't think of it that way..." Narcissa begs her,

"We need him Bellatrix" Andromeda tells the older teen looking her in the eye, "Would you let our world fall to  _him_  for a second time?"

The glint to her sister's eyes is murderous. "How dare you-"

"Don't fight!" Narcissa cries out.

Bellatrix presses her lips into a thin line, glaring for all her worth at the group before she grinds out "Fine."

Clapping her hands together, Narcissa smiles at her sister. "Lovely!"

Raising his empty glass, Lucius promises, "I'll pay you back in full."

Bellatrix taps her fingers against the table, thinking carefully of what she should ask for in payment. Finally, staring down the younger teenager, she says to him. "I want boots,"

"Done." Lucius agrees.

" _Carla Adeline_  boots" Bellatrix smirks.

The boy chokes, "You're  _joking_!" Wide eyed he exclaims "Those are a small  _fortune_!"

Tossing her long hair back, Belltrix sticks her nose in the air and sniffs. "Not my problem, you're the one who agreed."

Patting her husbands' back, Narcissa soothes. "At least she's not asking for a robe from  _C.A._ too."

"Small miracles." Lucius grunts, falling back in his seat with a pout. Andromeda hides a smile behind a sip of Butterbeer, times like these are precious, far between; however, no matter how hard she tries, she's reminded war looms just outside.


	19. You are the Navigator who could Never Lead

"Him too, eh?" Regulus awes with large eyes, Bellatrix doesn't stop the quirk of her lips; she enjoys seeing that her young cousin is still inoccent enough to feel wonder.

"Yes, though, I suppose we really shouldn't be surprised," The teenager replies, taking a sip of her tea, she continues, "Out of everyone so far, is Severus Snape truly that much of a shock?"

Regulus frowns, seemingly thinking her rhetorical question over. "How'd Lucius find out anyway? No one would tell me..." He fades off, eyes taking on a brooding shadown as he sinks into his chair.

With a chiding knock to the knees, the boy straightens and Bellatrix clears her throat. "Our dear Lucius thought drinking three quarters of a bottle of fire whiskey was the best way to deal with his problems," she explains, then with a sneering grin, she murmurs, "Let that be a lesson Reggie, don't do anything that could jeopardize us-it's sheer luck that Lucius didn't blow our cover when he visited Severus in his drunken stupor."

The boy nods his head earnestly, Bellatrix thinks it darling. With pondering eyes, the boys says wistfully, "I just wish we knew who remembered..."

Bellatrix looks away, with careful, clipped movements she puts her teacup down and bites. "We shouldn't be wishing for the impossible Regulus," the boy shrinks back with a assenting bend of his head and Bellatrix finds that her stomach churns. She hates lying to him; to  _everyone,_ but she took an  _oath_ if she were to break it...she quails the shudders before they can reach her shoulders.

She doesn't like leaving everyone in the open, but...her mind spiraling away into herself, Bellatrix reflects.

* * *

_She expected to wake up burning-or at the very least in darkness-no matter how fractured her mind became, the last of Bellatrix's true self knew with overwhelming despair that she deserved no better (worse, really) than she gave her victims in life. So, waking up in the Hogwarts Express youthful and whole was much more than a shock. Blinking, she lets her eyes rove the corridor, she can almost believe she's on her way to Hogwarts, but...it's too quiet, too still, too cheerless. The brunette makes a move to explore when one of the compartments doors open and a willowy figure of unrealized gender steps into the hall. The being smiles rows of white pearls at her, Bellatrix tenses and waits, raising their arms (as if wishing to welcome her with affection), they approach Bellatrix. She reaches for her wand and they stop, grinning fuller at her, Bellatrix sees how sharp the being's teeth are._

_"Hullo Bellatrix Black," they greet and Bellatrix can't stop the snarl that engulfs her countenance._

_"Where are we?" She demands, pointing her wand at the creature._

_It snickers, though, not mocking or cruel; it only confounds Bellatrix further. "Tell me!" She cries trying to cast a Crucio, but all her wand does is spark and sputter. Gaping at the stick, she lifts her eyes away from it and hisses, "What did you do to my wand?"_

_Gesturing around them, the thing tells her with a satisfied grin. "Your magic doesn't work here, lovely."_

_"What do you mean?" Bellatrix asks in wavering tones, "I-you haven't made me a_ squib  _have you_?"  _She asks hands hiding her ashen face._

 _The_ monster  _laughs, it laughs so loudly Bellatrix fears it's only a diversion; eyes darting about the train, she searches in vain for escape. "Oh you mortals!" It shrieks, "How easily you jump to conclusions!"_

 _Thoroughly exasperated, Bellatrix musters her daring and approaches the thing, staring it in the eye (but, oh_  its  _eyes, they are white, pupiless horrors)_ _as she growls. "Tell. Me. What. You. Want!"_

_Mirth fading gradually, its face becomes haggard as it tells Bellatrix, "I need you."_

_Thinning her lips into a stern line, she questions, "What do you mean?"_

_"You silly creatures are always trying to runaway from fate and this time your kind managed to elude it." The thing imparts to Bellatrix._

_"So?" Bellatrix shrugs, "Why do_ I  _matter_? _"_

_It sighs and rests its angular cheek in its hand. "How little you think of your worth," it murmurs and Bellatrix flinches, it pays this no concern. "You are an ideal candidate, if you accept that is, but...I need someone inconspicuous to guide fate back on to its path-some points will still be wrong-but-" it cuts itself off abruptly and shakes its head. "Ah, it's not a matter for you to concern yourself with."_

_Swallowing, Bellatrix contemplates what offer is being made to her; maybe..."What would correcting fate entail?"_

_It's eyes alight with something devilish and Bellatrix wonders if she truly isn't making a pact with a demon. "Not much, my dear Bellatrix, I just need you to go into the past-"_

_"I'll do it," Bellatrix agrees with no hesitation, a chance to fix and change is not something to let go of._

_It's eyes widen for just a moment, but then the creature's smiling again, and with pleased eyes it mutters, "How quick you are to accept."_

_"I want two conditions met," Bellatrix tells the thing, "I want to bring others back-of my choosing."_

_It clucks its tongue and seems to consider her deal, finally, it nods its head. "Yes, yes that could be good...but I reserve the right to send more into the fray where I see fit."_

_"Fine," Bellatrix agrees, what else can she do?"_

_Holding out its unworldly hand, the being smirks. "An oath, I shall bind you with an oath..."_

_"What kind of oath?" Bellatrix inquires with distrustful eyes._

_"One that binds you not to speak of any of this, lest you die." It answers simply with an overabundance of truth; (it makes the Slytherin want to squirm)._

_With a deep breath, the girl tries to not lose herself in the implications and accepts the offer, a chance to clear her future of the evil she will commit is to perfect to pass up..."Alright," she whispers and with surprising quickness, the creature pulls out a knife and slices Bellatrix's palm and its own before intermingling the two wounds as it chants in languages unknown to mortal ears. With slow intensity, the injuries begin to burn, burn until she thinks fire's going to sprout from her hand-then as quickly as the heat had come, it was gone leaving an oddly cold feeling._

_"It's done." It whispers._

_"I never told you who I want..." Bellatrix protests as the world around them begins to warp and fade._

_"I already know who your heart wants," it explains._

_"I never got your name..." Bellatrix fades off as the being disappears with the Hogwarts Express leaving her in quickly engulfing darkness._

_Something in the dark glows with frightening intensity and a hoarse voice whispers into her ear, "Some call me God and others...the Devil." Bellatrix shakes in the darkness, dread and fear pooling and mingling as one in her gut;_ oh god _...what has she done?_

* * *

"Bellatrix!" Regulus calls to his cousin and with sudden intensity, the teenager is within herself again, blinking shocked eyes at the boy for his outburst.

"It's impolite to yell inside, cousin, Father or Aunt will come if you don't quiet." Bellatrix reprimands.

Scowling, Regulus crosses his arms, " _I_ was going to call them, you were-" he cuts himself short, obviously at a loss as to what to say. Grappling for the right words, he breathes "You were  _gone,_ Bella."

The girl drops her head into her hands and her fingers rake through her dark locks as she exhales a heavy breath. "Some days," she murmurs, "Are just  _too much_."

Regulus pats his cousin's shoulder and wonders what's suddenly drawn Bellatrix down, he's yet to see her take anything thrown their way with anything less than perfect decorum and poise. With uncertain and imperfect words, he says to the teenager, "It's fine Bella, it'll all be okay, you'll see." The girl only curls further into herself and voices chatter and giggle as his brother and cousins search them out from their seclusion in the library. Tugging anxiously at her sleeve, Regulus begs, "You have to get up Bella, you don't want _them_ to see you this way do you?"

The girl lifts her head and smiles at him with marrow-deep tiredness, "No I don't, " she agrees and with momentous effort she pulls herself from her crouch and into a stance not unfit for a queen. With a single wink, she puts a pompous smirk upon her lips and opens the room's door and calls out into the hall "Get in here you lazy-bums! We have a great many things to discuss!"

Regulus ponders the idea that, maybe, his cousin is a better actor than any of them ever thought to give credit for.


	20. They say it's What you Make it (I say it's Fate)

Augusta Longbottom-for once-does not wake to a pre-set alarm, but to her son's little hands cupping her face. She smothers the smile erupting on her face and draws her brows together as she squints her eyes open to the warm light of the summer sun and the brilliant smile of her boy. "Hi mum," he greets softly, his askew brown hair and glinting bronze in the daylight's glow,  _perfect_ , she thinks reaching up to bring her son down for a hug.

"Hello Frankie" she sighs into his shoulder.

"I made breakfast, mum," he tells, her pulling away.

"You didn't have to do that..." Augusta fusses as she pulls her slippers on before rising up from the bed.

"You make me breakfast everyday," Frank states, "It's only fair I make it once in a while." The woman cannot help the rise of maternal feelings as she swoops down showering her only child with a flurry of uncommon affections.

"You are the sweetest boy," She compliments, "You'll make one girl a very happy wife one day."

Wiping away the kisses, the child flushes red and whines "Mu-um! Girls are  _boring_ , why would I want to make one my wife?"

Eyes alight and smirk teasing, Augusta pretends to ponder this, then with a subtle frown asks with feigned hurt, "Then am  _I_ boring?"

The boy gapes up at her with eyes aghast. "No!" He cries, "You'll never be boring mum!" He declares, swinging an arm around her waist and his head coming to rest upon her shoulder. Augusta puts her head on top of his, (he's still her baby, her little boy,) it's times like these she knows will make her cherish this second chance.

Walking down the ornate hall arm in arm, Augusta thinks to ask, "What did you make Frank, love?"

"Bacon and porridge!" The boy chirps, gaze rising up for her approval and love, (hadn't another boy done the same?). She smiles at her son, but her gut churns; it seems, maybe she was mistaken, Neville truly did have his father's likeness more than his mother's.

"That's wonderful," Augusta gushes. She keeps up with her son's eager strides and lets him pull out her chair before she takes her seat. Staring into the bowl in front of her, she sees her son made a star of blue berries in the middle and laughs. "Feeling artistic this morning?" She chuckles and Frank grins back warmly, taking her reaction for the approval he seeks.

They dig in, it's not until they both polished off their bowls and only lefts stains where the bacon rested that Frank dares to question. "So, what are we doing today, mum?" She knows he's hesitant, so many times her works gotten between them and their time together (not today, she swears).

Patting the napkin from her lap to her lips, Augusta pauses to think,  _now's as good a time as any..._ she thinks and turning to her son, she says with the entrancing grin, "I thought we'd visit a muggle park, I hear they have structures for children your age to play on."

Fred cocks his head to the side-considering-with gradual lifting of his lips, he smiles back. "Yeah, sounds fun mum!" Augusta relaxes, her son, the adventurer, she fondly thinks. Picking her wand from her robe pocket, she waves it silently over herself and son easily changing their clothes for the day to come, her son chortles and Augusta giggles along.

Getting up, she opens her hand to her son and orders, "Come along, I know just where to go." With no hesitation, the child latches on, eyes solely on his mother.

* * *

They land in the green ankle high grass, weeds and bald patches darting the field, but the equipment appears still in functioning order (Augusta releases a held breath at this). Her eyes dart around, hoping to find a familiar red and black head, her hopes are quickly vindicated at the sight of vibrant red flagging through the air as a little girl swings; however, there's no little boy beside her.

The woman frowns and requlenishes her hold on the squirming fingers to see Frank run towards the park with an abandonment she rarely connected with her son. At a more sedate pace, she comes forward, watching Lily turn in her swing to see Frank and with open mouth she breaks her eyes from his to see her further away. Falling from he swing, she stands and waits. Coming up beside the girl, Augusta never lets her focus waver from Frank as he fumbles in his attempts to conquer the ape? Is that it? bars.

Standing side by side, Augusta is the first to speak, "Where's Severus?"

From the corner of her eye, she sees the child wilt and her lip protrudes. "He went on 'holiday'," sneering at the word, she continues, "Bellatrix Black came by last week with Lucius Malfoy saying she was his maid and  _Mr._ Malfoy invited Sev to holiday at his estate in the country." Augusta feels her heart pound, what on earth are these children  _doing_? Lily doesn't seem to take notice of her change in demeanor as she continues her rant. "But, you know, really they're going to talk and learn stuff that they won't ever tell  _me,_ " she glances at Augusta contemplatively, then corrects herself to say, "Us, really."

horrified, Augusta bursts, " _Lucius Malfoy_? He was hung as a war  _criminal_!"

Lily frowns and with a flick of her hand, tosses her hair behind her shoulder as she meets Augusta's wild gaze dead on. "Who has the right to judge? Severus trusts him-he was a bit weary of Bellatrix, but like I said, he trusts Lucius-besides, Severus is one of our best bets in finding out how this happened; he needs access to a library for that." Lily explains.

Augusta frowns and takes the time to look up and see Frank dangling from a bar upside down, she lifts her hand waving at him and he grins back, "Look at me mum!" He cries, swinging himself up to sit on top of the bar.

"I see," she calls back.

Lily ponders the boy she knew, "He's nine."

Augusta touches her heart and smiles. "Yes," she confirms, "I'm praying I'll treat every moment with him tenderly."

Lily wrings her little hands. "I wish..." she fades off, but Augusta resonates with the pain in her tone.

"You're son was a good man," Augusta tells him, "Showed my grandson how to be brave, honored your's and Jame's memory by naming his children after you, he even named one after Severus, I think."

Lily's lips quirk. "Severus, huh? That boy seems to think everyone hated him," Lily's face morphs to one of unease as she murmurs, "Hate _s_ him."

Augusta sighs. "I won't lie and say that man didn't make enemies, and I won't say he was loved...but, he redeemed himself in your son's eyes and in proxy, much of the wizarding world." She tells the young girl as gently as she possibly can.

Lily sniffs. "I let him go, I  _knew_ he didn't have anyone else..." Her voice ends in a warble and Augusta rests her hand on the child's shoulder as she regains her strength. "But, I didn't think I had a choice." She finishes.

"Oh darling, there's always a choice, but sometimes we just make the wrong ones..." Augusta says.

"I'm not letting him go this time," Lily promises.

Augusta nods her head. "I think," she whispers, "That's a very good idea."

Lily lifts her face up to her, smiling at Augusta like she's the sun, leaning in, she wraps the woman in a quick hug. "Thank you!" She yells and then like a petal in the breeze she's off skipping through the tall grass to her son's side. She stands with her skinny sun-kissed arms tucked behind her back as Frank drops from the monkey bars. She grins at him and on the wind carries her offer, "Wanna swing?"

Her son's face takes on an embarrassed hue, "I don't know how..." The wind imparts to her.

Green eyes vivid, Lily laughs and snags his hand in hers. "It's just like flying!" She declares and her son stares at her with wide eyes.

"Really?" He asks in hushed sounds.

Lily nods resolute, leading him to the two seats, she drops into one and points to the other. "Now, watch me," she orders. Pumping her little legs, the swing begins to rock back and forth. "Now you try!" She tells him.

Frank-always quick to learn-copies her motions until he's sailing in the wind. Lily giggles and Augusta awes more than Frank when the girl releases the swing's chains to float on the zephyr to the green grass of the ground. The Woman brings a hand to her mouth and tries to hold back the tears in her eyes from falling, innocent magic, how she wished it could always be.

 


	21. And the Blood's Run Stale

James bounces between his parents as they press through the throngs of people as they come closer to Honeydukes. In a few minutes he will see Remus and everything will be okay again, (no, nothing will be okay again-better-but, not okay). "C'mon mum and dad!" James insists, yanking their sleeves with all his young strength. "I want to get some chocolate frogs!" He declares, grinning up at their exasperated faces.

Father shakes his head, bemused, yet amused. "Just run ahead James-" When the boy eagerly moves to do just that, his father's hand shoots out gripping his shoulder. Leveling his only son with a sharp stare, the man orders, "But, do not leave Honeydukes without us and no talking to strangers, alright?"

James resists the urge to roll his eyes and bobs his head up and down with surprising speed. His mother's lips lift in a happy-bound tilt, "Let him go love, he's practically vibrating." She says softly to her husband. The man chuckles and releases his son to watch in pleasure as a bright whoop sounds from the boy as he darts through the crowd of bodies to reach his destination.

* * *

Remus plods beside his father, the man's eyes shift nervously at all the people and his heavy hand keeps Remus with him (it's painful, but Remus understands). Jutting his chin out, Remus frowns up at his father and offers quietly, "No one even knows who I am dad."

The elder Lupin blinks and glances to his son in an apologetic way. "I know, it's just..." he trails off in helplessness.

The young werewolf lets his shoulders droop, his eyes become wide and sympathetic and like he's done for the entire week and he plays his father. "It's okay dad, if you aren't up to it-"

The man's eyes spark, jaw tightening, he tells his son. "No, we're only a few shops away now, we're going." Remus hides his smirk, in his letters with James he'd been rather struck by their contrasting tactics to win their parents over for a trip to Hogsmead; while he'd been demure-bordering pathetic-to convince his mother and father to take him, James whined and wheedled until his parents gave in with sudden snap of patience.

Seeing the colorful sign, Remus picks up his pace and with excited finger points at the store. "Look dad! There's Honeydukes!" Turning to the man, he asks with hopeful smile "D'you think I could go and look around it on my own for a bit? Find something for mum?"

Mr. Lupin twists his hands. "I don't know Remus..."

"I won't go anywhere else, I'll even meet you at the door when I'm done," he begs.

Remus watches with critical eye as the man's eyebrows waggle in thought before he nods. "Alright, but lets not take too long, okay? Your mother's waiting for us at home." Remus grins and with natural ease slips from his father's weight, rushing into the store.

* * *

"Why are we wasting our time on such frivolities Lucius?" Severus demands with a scowl as he hurries to keep up with his friend. The blond boy smirks at him and slows his gait enough for Severus to catch his breath and take in the elder's delight at his question.

"For one, I told your parents we were going on  _holiday_ , if you come back more pallid than before, won't they wonder?" Severus's frown deepens and with a concise glance away Lucius adds in a murmurs, "I'm looking to get Narcissa some chocolate flowers or gummy witches hats-she likes those, I think." Eyes surveying the rows and rows of candy.

Severus bites his tongue, lest he make some snarky comment that rubs Lucius the wrong way (it's easier than he remembers), instead, he grumbles, "They aren't my parents."

Lucius tussles his dark locks. "Of course they aren't," he agrees airily. Severus decides he hates him. "You can pick out some licorice wands too, if you want." Lucius adds as they stroll down a row of cansiters, Severus reconsiders his decision, maybe he doesn't  _hate_ Lucius after all, (just dislikes him, very,  _very,_ much). Stepping into the shop's center, the boys pause to simply wonder at the atmosphere; it's nothing like they're accustom to.

Drifting from Lucius's side, Severus fights to remember the last time he came to Honeydukes-not since second or third year-coming to stand beside a tower of fizzy cauldrons, he gazes at it with more admiration than he believes possible. Lucius finds his side again, but Severus's contemplative stare never leaves the display. "I could buy us enough to make our own tower." Lucius remarks.

Severus sends the older boy a skeptical stare. "Why ever would we do that?"

Lucius shrugs. "For  _fun,_ " he stresses, "You're starting to make me think you never had any." He teases.

Severus blows a curling strand of hair from his face. " _Books_  are fun,  _potions_  are fun,  _purpose_ is fun!" He grumbles.

Lucius shakes his head at him, clucking his tongue, he says, "I think we need to find you a youthful hobby."

Severus swings around fully to tell the blond where he can shove  _that_ idea, when he sees two boys his age; one thin with wispy brown hair and the other with thick glasses on the bridge of his nose, nearly hidden by his mess of dark hair.

* * *

James gapes at the two boys a few feet away,  _Severus Snape_ and  _Lucius Malfoy,_ it's not right. He sifts through everything he knows about the two, something Lily once told him comes to mind " _I don't think he visited the wizarding world once before his eleventh birthday, but his mother was a witch..._ " He swallows thickly, maybe she'd been wrong?

Remus's trembling voice whispers to him, "Do you see them too?"

"Uh huh." James mumbles.

"They were Death-Eaters, you know." He imparts to James.

At first, the boy doesn't say anything. Instead, James squints his eyes and studies Severus in particular, there's something-different-about him; he snaps his fingers when he realizes it. "He's clean!"

Remus sputters. "What?"

Nudging his elbow in Severus's direction, he comments "He's clean! See his hair? It  _curls_."

Remus glares at him. "Yes, because that  _matters_ James!" He seethes.

Grabbing the werewolf's wrist, James shakes his head. "Look, just follow me okay?" He orders and without doubt, approaches the two Slytherins.

Smiling at them, James chirps, "Hi!" Severus and Lucius frown at him in identically distrustful wary ways. Shifting between his feet, James looks to the ground and then back at them. "Um, I'm James!" He introduces holding out his hand.

Neither of the boys take up the offer.

"You could be polite you know!" James snaps, quickly riled.

Severus sneers. "Why should I be polite to the likes of  _you_?"

"Severus!" Lucius rebukes, snagging the boy back. "We are here to get some treats for Narcissa, not to start fights."

Severus turns on the boy with a fierce scowl. "Oh shove it Lucius! Like you wouldn't do the same if  _Weasley_ was here!"

Lucius shoulders seem to drop and his eyes take on a haggardness James thinks looks unfit on a boy his age's face (but he wears the same) "I'm tired of fighting." He utters.

Some of the anger in Severus dissipates, but envy glows in those shadow eyes. "I wish I felt the same."

Lucius gives the younger child a rueful grin. "I don't think you do," when Severus's lips twitch in protest, he quickly continues to say. "Losing the will to fight doesn't always mean peace, Severus." Ever thoughtful, Severus's eyes burrow into their depths; Lucius relaxes and takes the time to take stock of the two younger boys. "You're a  _Potter_ , right?" The teen demands, but he doesn't wait for the child to answer before commenting, "I know  _you_ know I'm a  _Malfoy,_ " Chilling his gaze, he studies Potter and Lupin with seemingly disdainful eyes. "So,  _why_ have you come to introduce yourselves?"

James mouth moves without speaking, finally, he starts "I-"

"James!" A man belows, swiftly approaching the little group. Lucius's heart hammers and he pulls his young friend behind him.

Jame's pupils dilate and he looks up at his father with big eyes. "Yeah dad?"

"What are you doing?" He growls.

The boy doesn't speak for a moment, his eyes shift and land on the display. "...was looking as the cauldrons and then I met Remus!" He declares gesturing to the sickly youth, "Then they came over!" He concludes gesturing to Lucius and Severus.

Potter's father's stare rakes over Lucius and Severus, (he tries to hide the boy, some of Prince features are simply striking and he fears they'll be easily spotted). Warily, the man asks, "Where's your father Lucius?"

Pulling on a gentile smile, Lucius answers, "Father was feeling under the weather, just me today."

The man casts the dark head peaking around him a curioser stare. "And the boy?"

Bringing him forward quickly for presentation, Lucius declares. "A friend of father's from abroad came to visit, this is her son, Severus Evans." Severus tenses and Lucius hears James Potter choke and Remus Lupin's breath hitches.

Severus plays coy and darts back behind Lucius, one hand twisting in the back of his robe. The senior Potter casts Lucius and the other boys an odd glance, but seems to accept the answer. "I see, tell you father I hope he feels better." The man murmurs and then reaching around, grasps his son's shoulder pulling him around.

The boy yelps. "Dad!"

"Come along James," his father sighs, briskly putting as much space between him and Lucius.

Severus, runs away from Lucius. "Severus!" Lucius snarls, half-heartedly reaching for the younger boy, but Severus has already reached the Potters. Tugging Mr. Potter's sleeve, Severus waits for the man to glance at him.

"Yes?" The older male inquires suspiciously, smiling a gape tooth smile, the black-haired boy presents a square of paper to the man.

"You're son dropped this," he tells him.

His gaze meets his son's and the senior Potter prompts, "Well? Are you going to take it James?"

The boy sends Severus a baffled look, but takes it with little hesitation. "Sorry, dad." He mumbles snatching up the paper. With a sufficient nod, Severus drifts back into the thickets of people and finds his way back to Lucius.

Snagging the older boy's robe, he waits for Lucius to acknowledge him. "What did you do Severus?" The blond exhales.

"I simply made sure he knows how to reach us." Severus replies, Lucius settles him with a sharp gaze.

"You're certain then?" Lucius demands.

"I  _know,_ " Severus answers smugly.

Lucius doesn't say anything, praying that his young friend's right.

* * *

Finding his father, Remus watches from the corner of his eye as Lucius and Severus bring their purchases to the counter and wonders just what Severus gave James. Looking away, he sees his dad's smiling face. "Find something good?" He questions.

Lifting his lips in a grin, Remus nods. "Yeah, a tin of chocolate frogs! All of us can have some." He tells his dad presenting the little package.

"Good choice," the man agrees seriously, holding out his hand for Remus to take. "Let's check out, yeah?"

"Uh huh!" Remus chirps, suddenly, an arm bumps his and he looks to see Severus's black eyes.

The smaller boy leans in and whispers, "We'll be in touch." Remus bites his lip and begins to fret, he doesn't know what Severus is playing at, but Lucius calling him Severus  _Evans_ must mean something, right?

* * *

Eyes flickering to his father, James sees that he's not paying attention to him any longer. Pulling out the little piece of paper, James unfolds it to find a single message scrawled across it;

_If you know what I think you do, I suggest you write to Malfoy, he'll be able to get you in contact with the rest of us._

James rereads it at least ten times over, he can hardly believe it, but...he hopes that this will bring him closer to seeing Lily and Sirius.


	22. Interlude: Fool no More

Filius Flitwick-even with his small stature-can intimidate others when it suits him and as he walks in to the Great Hall to See Horace pale and jittery in his seat, he knows this would be one of the times he would need not only his cleverness, but intimidation too. Approaching his colleague, Flitwick feigns more concern than he feels at the moment to inquire, "Are you alright Horace?"

Dabbing at his brow with a handkerchief, the man answers with a weak smile. "Once I can have a bit of a talk with Dumbledore, I think I shall."

Flitwick, though, does not agree. "No, no, why don't we take a visit to Pomfrey? You look very sick my friend." He tells him, trying to convey only earnestness in his words.

"It's not like that..." Horace trails off.

"I insist" Flitwick urges; he knows from the nervous glint in his eye, that Horace won't refuse his next request. "Let me accompany you." He implores.

Horace is quiet, gazing on perturbed. "...alright," he agrees. The rest of the staff watches on confounded as Flitwick and Slughorn stroll out of the Great Hall, once outside of the dining area, Flitwick reaches up and jerks Slughorn into a side corridor that he knows is nearly devoid of portraits. Flitwick keeps the hold on Slughorn's elbow as he dashes his eyes about the hall seeing movement in one frame and a snoozing wizard in another. It's important nothing is overheard, casting a quick muffaliato charm which causes Slughorn to gasp.

"That hasn't-"

Flitwick is quick to cut the sentence short with a curt nod, "I know."

"You too then?" Horace inquires, some of his tension draining away and a hopeful glint coming to his eyes.

"If you mean remembering, then, yes." Flitwick replies, staring up at the man with a critical gaze.

"I don't understand..." The rotund man mutters, "Why ever would we end up here?"

Flitwick rolls his shoulders as his mind runs through countless possibilities; however, no matter the conclusion he draws, Flitwick can only answer the question with guesses. "Who knows? Not me." He finally answers the Potion's Master.

Slughorn, with bleak eyes, opens his hand as if to snatch some reason from the air. "Do you think it's just us?" He whispers, paling to white, he murmurs, "What if someone  _dangerous_ remembers? Ooooh what if a student-"

"Stop it Horace!" Flitwick shrills, "Do  _not_ think about any of it, you'll drive yourself mad."

Stretching and pulling at handkerchief from his pocket, the larger man sighs. "I know," he mumbles.

Running a hand through his dark strands, Flitwick opens his hands up; begging the man to see as he does. "Students will be here in a matter of a week, we need to go on-behave as we always have-if we raise any suspicions..." the little man trails off, too numerous are the ways everything could go wrong.

"Yes, but what of Dumbledore? Surely he could think of something?" Slughorn frowns, staring down at his elfin companion.

"No," Flitwick answers in clipped tones, "You weren't there in the later years Horace, Dumbledore...he allowed a lot more danger in Hogwarts halls than he should have, let more people takes falls and hits then needed...I don't want to know what he would do if he learned of our memories." The man explains.

Slughorn blusters and puffs. "Say now, Dumbledore is not a bad man-"

"I know, just failable-one track mind-really," Flitwick quickly soothes, not wanting to lose allies in this coming nightmare; "He's not a villain, he's just as good as you or I, but the way he goes about things...it's not always with the individual in mind." Flitwick elaborates with gestures and pointing. Slughorn's mouth is a thin line, his hand scrubbing his chin in his contemplation. Flitwick waits, holding back any breath, may it shift the winds.

"I understand, I can see your point-and you're right, I wasn't there in the later years-I'll trust your judgement-for now." Slughorn relents with escape plan ready if Flitwick turns untrustworthy.

Relaxing marginally, Flitwick makes a point of smiling. "Thank you Horace." He says with great enthusiasm.

The man nods and returns the grin. "Maybe we should have some Fire Whiskey back in my rooms?" He offers, "Speak of things to be done, precautions?" He offers.

Flitwick considers this, it's a sound idea-better-in fact. "Yes, I shall join you." He concurs.

* * *

A portrait frowns, the buzzing that so suddenly occurred, now gone and replaced with jovial chatter of the portly and tiny professors. He's never witnessed anything like it, a new spell perhaps? Definitely a useful one, if so. The Headmaster should be informed, it's a curious spell and even curiouser for the professors to have need of it. Flitting through empty frames, the stately man eventually enters the Headmaster's study.

He sees the old man pouring over stacks upon stacks of papers, scratching his quill here and there, pushing his spectacles up occasionally with his thumb. Anxiety plaguing him more by the second, the portrait makes point of coughing. Expectedly, the professor's face lifts from his work.

"Ah, Sir Arthur, what can I do for you?" He implores with benign smile and tired eyes.

"I just want to inform you of something curious I've witnessed." He informs Dumbledore.

The man's eyes twinkle brightly. "Why, the student's aren't even back yet!" He chortles.

Sir Arthur tries not feel irritation at the wizard's light-heartedness, for he doesn't know yet of what he's seen. Allowing the man's laughter, Sir Arthur responds, "It's about the professors, the small one-Flitwick?-and the Potion's Master." He explains to the man.

Setting his quill aside, Dumbledore leans in. "Oh?" He murmurs.

"Yes," the portrait agrees, "They were acting strangely, then the small one muttered some spell and all I could hear after was a buzzing sound." He explains.

Dumbledore's knarled fingers clasp together as he trains his eyes on the portrait. "Truly? Do you believe it was because of the spell?" He questions.

Sir Arthur contemplates this, slowly, he answers. "I don't know why else I would hear such a sound."

Dumbledore hums something low and eager. "Thank you Sir Arthur, I shall look into this." He says to the portrait.

Sir Arthur bows. "Always at your service Headmaster." He vows and with a proper nod makes his way back to his frame.

Dumbledore picks up his quill and stares off into the distance. "Interesting," he murmurs, "how very interesting..." his voice fading off and the scritch scratch of his quill of takes over.


	23. We all want Someone to Hold in the Night

Lily strains and bounces under her mum's grip on her shoulder, she knows she's being utterly childish, but she can't bring herself to care because Sev is coming back to her. Pushing up on her toes, Lily cranes her neck to see around the throngs of people and with a giant grin she catches sight of a boy her size with hair as black as hers is red mimicking her actions.

Pointing through the people, Lily shouts, "There they are!" Ad with a final twist from her mother's hand, races across the station to meet her very best friend. "Sev!" She shrieks, tackling the boy to the ground in her exuberance.

"Umph!" Severus yips and the blond boy and brunette teenager stare down at them in a mixture of hilarity and disgust. Patting his friend's back awkwardly, Severus murmurs to Lily, "I wasn't gone that long."

"That's easy for you to say," the redhead grumbles into his shoulder.

Sighing, Severus squirms to get out from beneath her with a promise. "Look, I know you're not happy, but...I have something for you."

Pulling off Severus, Lily falls back to rest on her knees. "What did you get me?" She asks half-curious and half-excited. Turning his back on her, Severus rummages in the little suitcase mum had bought him for the occasion. A minute later, he holds up a miniature golden Eiffel Tower and a letter sealed with-James, James wrote her!

"We did say we were going to France after all," He smirks and then glancing to the letter, he tells her quieter, sadder, "I suggest you read this when you're alone."

Reaching for the presents, Lily cradles them close to her heart and breathless, questions, "Then he...?"

Severus nods his head. "Yeah," he mumbles, "Yeah he does."

Tears building in her eyes and working her mouth tirelessly to find the right words for Severus, she abandons her things with a clammer to the floor in favor of wrapping her arms around the boy in yet another hug. "Severus, Severus," she utters, "How did I ever live without you?"

A wiry-if not bitter-smile sneaks up on Severus's face. "I don't know that you want me to answer that question Lily," he replies.

Lily retreats at this, eyes seeking and desperately trying to convey all that she knows she can't make up for. "You're right, I don't." She decides to say, "But...maybe, this time I could make it up to you? Prove to you I'm worthy for you to call me a friend."

Severus opens his mouth a stubborn furrow to his brow that Lily knows to mean a row is to come. "Lily-"

Lucius picks up the treasures Lily dropped in favor of Severus and eyeing them, he clears his throat. "You're mother and father are storming over here, neither looks quite pleased with your conduct."

Lily's green eyes grow bigger and she mutters, "Uh oh."

Hands on her hips, Mrs. Evans narrows her eyes at her youngest daughter. "It's more than 'uh oh' missy," she hisses.

Up in a flash, Lily's throwing herself at her mother's skirts with a cry. "I'm sorry mum! I just got super excited and-"

"You're old enough to know not to run off like that." Mother rebukes, half-way through Lily's excuse.

Playing contrite, the redhead lowers her gaze to her feet and pokes her mother's foot absently. "I am," she agrees.

Her mother exhales and with a strained voice, she grumbles, "We'll overlook it for right now, this is the first time you've been away from Severus since..." since he came to their home in the middle of the night, since he killed his mother, since Lucius came to visit.

Mr. Evans gives his attention to Lucius and his "nanny" and anxiously, he inquires, "I hope Severus behaved himself."

Bellatrix is slow to smile, but when it comes, it's warm and sweet as honey. "Oh yes, a perfect dark-haired angel." She announces reaching out to pat Severus's head in the most patronizing way possible. Lily sees her friend's teeth grit and sees the merry twinkle in both Lucius and Bellatrix's eyes, Lily knows the pair are joking, but she hopes Severus does too. He's not always the best at separating joke from seriousness, she thinks it's because he's so stern.

Some of the tension fades from her parents taller forms and mum reaches out to take Severus against her. "Did you have fun Severus?"

Muffling his face in her side, Severus mumbles what Lily presumes to be, "Yes."

Glancing at a delicate watch on her wrist, Bellatrix pulls an apologetic face and tells the Evans, "I'm sorry, but Lu and I need to get going, his father expects us to meet up for lunch in an hour."

Mr. Evans waves a hand and smiles, "We understand, you kids get along." and with fake bustle, the two teenagers pick up their luggage and hurry towards the exit, but not before Lucius calls to Severus.

"I'll write you! Okay?"

Glowering in the pairs direction, Severus grunts, "Fine." Though, Lily doesn't think Lucius really cares if he has Severus's consent or not. Strolling out of the train station, Lily perks up in question and with her face upturned to her dad, she asks,

"Can we get ice cream?"

The man's eyes crinkle and then he grins. "Why not? It can be our homecoming gift for Severus."

Lily cheers and reaches over snagging Severus's free hand. "Here that Sev?"

He let's his eyes flit up in the briefest of smiles, "Yeah, ssounds good." He says, but Lily can see he's somewhere else; somewhere so deep in that head of his, she fears irrationally for a moment she'll never get him all back. But, that's silly, no one ever discards parts of themselves inside their heads.

"Tell me!" Lily demands, bouncing on their bed; though, it will be their bed only for a few more weeks she guesses, mum and dad have been looking into four bedroom homes closer to London and dad; he's been looking for jobs in and around London too. Lily can't say she's too upset about the upcoming move, she doesn't think she can pretend to be friends with little girls she barely remembers and Severus...it'll do him some good to put distant between him and Spinner's end.

Severus smirks at his friend. "Why should I?" He drawls, eyes flashing with unusual mischief.

Lily pouts, falling down to her bed. "C'mon Sev!" She moans, "I know you know that I know you're planning something big."

Severus barks a laugh, "Hardly! All I got from Lucius is that he's planning ssome hush-hush meeting for all us time travelers."

Lily huffs a lock of red from her face. "That's something, isn't it? Did you learn anything else?"

Severus shakes his head, eyes taking on a sad hue. "That's the thing Lils, nothing like this has ever happened."

Lily feels panic scrabbling for perch in her mind. "Nothing?" She repeats, "Not one story?"

Severus sighs and looks away. "No, not one." He sounds as desolate as Lily feels.

Licking her lips, Lily tries a new approach, "Okay, did you figure out how many of us are back then?"

Severus's tongue darts out from the gap where his tooth used to rest-Lily's heard her parents talking, as soon as they move they're taking him to a dentist-"We can't be certain; however..." He trails off.

"What?" Lily urges, leaning in close.

"It's a fairly large bunch, us, Mrs. Longbottom, Lucius, the Blacks-ssisters and brothers-Potter and Lupin." He rattles off, his face darkens next, Lily knows he's going to make a very serious point. "There could be more of us-no, I know there's more-and not all of them...not all of them are going to be on the same side as us Lily."

Lily puffs her cheeks and rolls her eyes. "I could have guessed that Sev!" She grumbles.

Severus's hand takes hers and with so very serious fathomless eyes he utters, "No, Lily, you wouldn't you are far too trusting, too kind, What if Pettigrew has his memories? Do you not think he will try to worm his way into your affections again? He'll throw you to the dogs if he thinks it'll ssave his hide."

Lily bites her lip and glances away, "Does he?"

Severus frowns, "He what?"

"Remember." Lily murmurs.

Severus relaxes, "We don't know, but I have my doubts."

Lily takes Severus's loosening of his shoulders as cue to smiles. "Okay," she exhales feeling marginally better. A minute later, puckering her lips, the redhead thinks to next inquire, "Do you have any hunches about anyone else?"

Severus pauses, eyes darting around the room systematically. "No, but we've been reading the papers-magic and muggle-for people who've gone off their rockers and are raving about the future. Lucius promised to find ssome way to take a look at St. Muggo admission records too, see if anyone's been admitted for a break with reality or insanity."

Lily makes a noise behind her teeth. "That's a good idea, actually," she comments, rewarding Severus with a wide smile.

The boy, though, doesn't smile back. "Are you ever going to read that letter?"

"Hm?" Lily hums, "Oh, from James," she realizes with sudden clarity (fear). "I will, but James has never been a good writer, so I don't know how much I'll actually get from it..." Squeezing the hand still holding hers, Lily whispers, "Besides, you are here, not James."

Severus's features thunder. "What of when James comes? Will you abandon me in favor of his presence?" He snarls.

Lily gasp taken back. "No!" She shouts, "Haven't you hear me? I want to be friends with you again! Better than before even!" She cries, "Sev," she whimpers tearful, "I'm not going to leave you like that, not again."

Severus gazes at her with the tenderest of anguishes. "Lily," he murmurs, "I loved you, loved you even after you died so I could devote myself to ssaving the sson that was more your husband than you, but Lily..." he averts his eyes, "Lily, I know you, you'll go back to your husband and slowly are relationship will strain; then you will be outside my grasps once more." He finishes, not bringing his stare back to hers.

Eyes the fiercest they've been since her death, Lily snatches her friend's chin between her fingers and demands he looks at her. "Look at me Sev," she says in a voice quiet, but bellying something far stronger, "I-I really was a prick when we were kids, I let you go and then I married James...but, oh Sev! I don't know if I go back to James..." She admits this with her arms in the shape of an invisible cradle (an empty one), "Sev, we had a baby and now," tears spilling down her cheeks she chokes. "I don't know that I could ever be that close to James again because-because I don't think I could create another child together perchance it will be torn from us again." Pain and snot thick on her face, she gazes at Severus with verdant eyes too close to shattering for his liking. "I don't know that I have the bravery to dare for us to try and be a couple again."

Voice hoarse and throat dry, Severus remarks, "You don't think James will just give up do you?"

Smiling through her troubles Lily laughs and shakes her head, "No, he's too stubborn for that; however, I do think he'll see how much it hurts me-he never could stand to see in pain-and he'll back off, maybe, he'll even find someone else in the in-between."

"You're far too optimistic when it comes to that man." Severus glowers.

"And you too pessimistic!" Lily counters, wiping the tears and snot away, Lily pats their bed and implores, "Lay down with me?"

Severus bites back a sigh and nods. Linking hands as they have done every night before, the pair lay their heads down on the virgin white pillows and try to find rest in the restless sleep they know is to come.


	24. I'd like to Believe in all the Possibilities

"Sirius!" Regulus shouts, running down the long expanses of halls. "Sirius!" He yells again, stopping suddenly to peer out a large bay window. Outside, he sees Sirius; the older boy has a beater's bat in hand and seems to be hitting bludgers. Sighing in aggravation, Regulus rushes to the window and unlatches it. Pushing it open with a bit too much force, the frames rattle and Regulus pauses for a moment to stop them before screaming, "SIRIUS!" His brother spasms and a bludger lands on his foot, Sirius howls in pain. "Uh-oh." Regulus whispers, a great deal paler and more fearful than before. Backing away from the window, Regulus runs for the parlor.

"Mother! Father!" He calls, "I think Sirius broke his foot!" He runs, and when he gets to the darkwood door, he hesitates to knock. "Mother!" He calls again, a moment later, the door swings open nearly clipping the small boy's nose.

Glaring down at her son, Walburga Black hisses. "What is it Regulus?"

"I think Sirius's foot's broken." Regulus whispers.

Her eyes widen. "How?" She demands.

"I, um, I startled him and a bludger he was hitting fell on his foot and-" His mother shoves him out of the way and turns her head back.

"Orion, your son's foot is broken." She tells him.

"For the love of-" He growls, getting up from the parlor couch he slams his teacup down, nearly breaking it in the process and stalks out of the room. "Where is he?" He asks, stalking past his wife and son.

"Outside where he likes to practice quidditch." The woman says to her husband following right behind him.

Regulus watches for a moment before hurrying to catch up. Stalking down the halls, Orion grumbles, "We'll have to go to St. Mungo's, for the fourth time this year."

Wringing her hands, Walburga frowns at her husband's back. "Yes, well," she mutters, "It's not like we can fix his foot on our own."

"I know that!" The man snaps, turning on his wife.

Rushing around his parents, Regulus runs out one of the house's many doors and looks to find his brother out on the lawn. Seeing Sirius on the grass, Tears streaming down his flushed cheeks and lips a bloody red; the younger boy feels terribly guilty. "Does it hurt a lot?" The younger brother asks, kneeling down beside Sirius.

"What do you think!?" Sirius snarls, "My foot's bloody smashed I bet!" He growls at his brother.

"Sirius!" Both children turn to see their mother and father heading straight for them. "You haven't moved, have you?" Walburga asks.

"N-No," Sirius warbles, tucking himself in a smaller ball.

"Good," she breathes, taking out her wand she casts a single spell, " _Ferula*._ "

Sirius immediately stops sniffling. Their father comes up beside them and murmurs, "good boy," to Sirius as he plucks him from the ground. "Come along." He says, giving his wife and youngest son a pointed look. The two of them latch on to him and with a side-long apparition spell, they are gone.

They arrive in the middle St. Mungo's reception area, a young witch behind a desk looks up from her work and sees them. Getting up, she blinks. "What brings you here Mr. and Mrs. Black?" She asks.

Holding out Sirius, Orion answers. "Our son dropped a bludger on his foot."

She signals for a healer and comes over to cluck at Sirius's injury. "Poor boy, that must really hurt," she sympathizes.

Sirius, limp against his father, cracks an eye open and smirks weakly. "It bloody well hurt, it's smashed after all."

"Sirius!" Walburga rebukes as the woman's dark brows rise sky high.

"Sorry ma'am," The injured boy apologizes instinctively. Watching, Regulus sees the older boy scowl after and his eyes cloud over as he closes himself off in his mind. He wonders what's set him off, was it the chiding? Or that he responded to it?

A healer now hurrying over, looks them over. "What seems to be the problem?" He asks.

The nurse answers. "Mr. Black's son dropped a bludger on his foot."

The healer winces. "Ouch," he mutters. Then, shifting to a more professional assessment, he tells Regulus's parents. "We'll just take a look at that foot, but I think a dose of Skele-Gro and he'll be good to go home-with a pain reliever of course."

Taking the family to an examination room, the healer pushes back his sleeves and says to their father, "Set Sirius on the bench, will you?" Orion nods and puts his son down, briefly running a hand down the child's back before going to take a seat beside his wife and youngest child.

Coming up to Sirius, the healer vanishes Sirius's shoe and sock. "So, kiddo, how old are you now?" He asks as he gently begins to prod at the bones.

"Nine, I'll be ten this year." Sirius grits as the man pokes at a particularly tender spot.

"Merlin, I think you shattered most of your big toe and fractured the rest." The man mumbles, "Just how far did this bludger fall?" He inquires.

"Three? Four feet maybe." Sirius answers, squirming as the man begins to move on to his foot.

"I think we'll have to vanish his toes," the healer sighs, waving his wand, he then says, "his foot seems to have a fracture; but, I think that can be handled just by keeping him on crutches." The healer explains to Walburga and Orion.

"How long will he have to stay off that foot?" Walburga inquires.

"I'd say six weeks." The man mutters. " _Ossio_   _Dispersimus_ **," he whispers, Sirius yelps at the new feeling but seems more fascinated then scared by his floppy toes.

Walking back to a cabinet, the man takes a Skele-Gro potion from it. Coming to the dark-haired boy, he pops the lid and pours him the correct dosage. "Take that for me, please."

Sirius crinkles his nose. "Here I go," he exhales, downing it down in a breath. "Yuck!" He sputters.

Everyone in the room grins (even if father and mother hide theirs behind their hands). "Here's some juice." The healer says giving the boy a new cup.

"Thanks," Sirius sulks.

Turning to his family, the healer explains to the Blacks what needs to be done for the next few weeks and then shaking their hands, allows them to go.

* * *

"Sirius?" Regulus whispers, coming into his brother's room.

"What do you want Reg?" Is the slurred call.

Shuffling in, Regulus looks at all the tall and long shadows gliding around Sirius's walls and with a pang of irrational fear runs at his brother's bed, jumping on.

Sirius hisses. "What's with the jumping you prat?" He snaps at his brother.

Curling in on himself, Regulus mutters, "Sorry." Looking towards his brother's form, he whispers, "Sorry about everything."

The older brother sighs. "I know you are Reg." Shifting, he asks, "What got you so excited this morning anyway?"

Perking up, Regulus crawls over to his brother's side and reaches into his robe pocket. "This!" He exclaims, holding out a letter.

Snatching it from the smaller boy, Sirius strains his eyes to read it in the darkness. "Oh wow, didn't think I'd see the day where  _Lucius Malfoy_ invited  _me_ to his house." He chuckles and Regulus grins.

"Yeah, but he's the only one without any parents around, you see? So that's the only place we can all go." Regulus explains, reaching out to take back the invitation.

"Where are his parents?" Sirius inquires.

"Dead." Regulus frowns, "His father died shortly after we all ended up here; or that's what I think Bella said."

"You shouldn't trust Bellatrix." Sirius sighs, "How do you know she wasn't lying?" He demands.

Regulus scoots away from his older brother. "How do you know she  _was_ lying?" He grumbles, "Just because  _you_ don't like her, doesn't mean she's a bad person."

"She killed me!" Sirius snarls.

A breath leaves Regulus all in a gust. "Oh," he utters.

"It's a little more than oh, you little prick." Sirius snaps.

"She's not the same now," Regulus argues, "I  _saw_ her, she's different." He mumbles.

"You tell yourself that," Sirius huffs, "And when she kills  _you,_ know that I  _did_ tell you." He tells Regulus, turning away, the older boy curls in on himself. Regulus stays beside his brother's stiff form for a long while after, lost in a sea of confusion, doubt, fear, and sadness.  _Nothing can ever be simple, can it?_  He thinks gloomily.


	25. Hang on the Hope for Better Times

She stares unblinking at the ceiling, she can't sleep; can't even close her eyes. Head lolling to her left, she catches glimpse of her bed companion in the light of the stars' nightglow. His face isn't peaceful (she wonders, has it ever been?) it's taunt even in his slumber and his breath isn't the deep full body encompassing movements of a relaxing sleep, but the shallower ones of a person on the edge of a nightmare. She lifts a hand and puts her warm fingers to his cool jaw, some of the tightness around his eyes fades and she can hear the distinct grating of his teeth fade away. Pulling her hand away she stares at it, how wondrous the touch of another is; how healing.

If Lily can make it past her seventeenth year here, she thinks she'd like to be a healer this time. Slowly rising up to a sitting position, she glances once to Severus before reaching over to her bedside table and opening the drawer. From it, she pulls out the unopened letter Severus gave her just yesterday. She gazes at the seal, it's the crest of her husband-the one she claimed as her own upon their marrying. Fingers tracing the familiar shapes, Lily smiles slowly; she still loves him. How could she not? But...her gaze shifts to Severus and fixes on him; who needs her more? James or Severus? The man who did his best to give his wife and son a chance to escape? Or the man who ensured up to his death that the last bit of what she loved on the living earth survived to live and flourish? It's hard, if she'd been asked before her death who she'd choose no matter what, she would without hesitation say James. Now? She can't choose, it'd tear her up inside until she was nothing more than a quivering mess incapable of speech let alone deciding.

Fingers tracing the lip of the envelope, Lily pauses before forgoing care and tearing it open in her eagerness to see what her husband wrote.

_Lily,_

_I'm so sorry, I'm sorry all of this happened and that I couldn't save you or Harry and...there's so many things I want to apologize for; even for being a jerk to the greasy git_  (Lily bites back a sigh at this, she doesn't appreciate the name calling; but she knows even though James matured past hexing and fighting people, insults are still acceptable as far as he's concerned). _in school when you were friends with him. You deserve better than me, than what you got; god Lily, I can't tell you how horrible I feel about everything. I know I'm no good at writing-you always told me so, but I want to make it up to you, alright? Look, Malfoy's hosting a meeting for all of us in the coming month; I'll start making it up to you then by apologizing in person._

_Until then,_

_Love James_

Lips struggling not to pull into a frown, Lily dabs at her eyes with her nightgown's sleeve. "You stupid boy..." she whimpers.

"Lily?" A voice mumbles from beside her, Lily curses at herself then; she should have known she would wake Severus.

"Yes Sev?" She whispers.

Lifting his head from his pillow, his eyes glitter at her in the darkness. "You read the letter didn't you?" The paper trembling between her fingers, all she can do is nod; not wanting to start sobbing. He sighs and scoots close to her. Eyes flickering over the moving writing, he snorts. "You're right, he's even less eloquent in pen than when he speaks."

"Shut up!" She snaps. Severus blinks at her, his body hunching in some. Miserably, Lily puts the letter aside and leans her head on the boy's shoulder. "Oh I didn't mean it, I'm sorry..."

His hand briefly rests on her shoulder. "It's fine," he mumbles, "After all, I should know better; you love  _him_."

"He loves me too, you know," Lily reminds him.

She feels him sigh more than hear it. "I know," he agrees, "That jabber makes it clear enough."

Lily tilts her head up and looks at Severus. "You...You love me too, don't you?" She whispers.

His eyes are old and sad. "Lily, when haven't I?" He counters.

The girl flexes her hand, after a moment of thought she puts it on Severus's. "I love you too, you know," she whispers, "But, I love James also."

Pulling away, Severus slips from the sheets to move to the window. "You can't have us both, Lily." He reminds her.

Miserable, Lily drops her stare to her lap. "I know," she utters.

Not looking away from the window, Severus speaks, "Lily, I know this is hard for you; but, if you choose him again, it won't end my world. I've lived through it once, I can do it again and besides, who's to ssay we'll all even make it to the point that we can do anything with your decision?"

"Don't say things like that Sev," she begs, "I hate the thought of losing anyone again."

His sharp eyes penetrate hers even in the dark. "Sstop being afraid Lily!" He nearly shouts, "Figure out what you want and take it!" A hand running through his hair he exhales. "There's no time for indecision, not here" he breathes.

Lily, though, disagrees. "I can't just make up my mind here and now!" She counters, "I can't do that to you or James, I'm not going to leave one of you out in the cold; especially not you, Sev." her nose scrunching in a funny way, she looks about the room decorated in pastels, the doodles of a child and stuffed animals. " _God_ Severus we're  _nine,_ we have nearly two years before we even go to Hogwarts!"

The boy by the window looks to his hands. "We  _aren't_ children," he mutters, "and that's why  _this_ is a problem."

Feeling much calmer than a moment before, Lily smiles. "It's not like I can marry either of you-let alone have sex...I don't think I could even do more than kiss you without feeling like a sicko." She tells her friend. "You may not think I have time to decide what my decision will be, but I  _do,_ " She says with great emphasis, "And in the end, that's all that matters."

Severus scoffs. "My god, you're sso young," he mutters.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lily demands.

Eyes harsh, he snaps, "You sso sself-centered; not even thinking about  _Potter_ and I, what do you think dragging this out will do? Do you think it will breed friendship? Cooperation?"

Deflating, Lily turns away and flops back to the bed. "I can't make this choice now Sev," she warbles, "Don't make me."

Severus's eyes consider her, "Alright Lily." He finally says, coming back to the bed and crawling up to rest beside her. "I know I have only sso much time with you before Potter's narcissism takes up all your attention," Lily purses her lips at the words and wants to argue James is a good man, a good father, but she knows to Severus's eyes he likely never will be anything but the bully James was in his youth.

"I'll always have time for you Sev," she promises, "I'll make sure of it."

Severus murmurs something too low for her to hear, she strains her ears and ends up catching the last of his words, "-too optimistic..." Lily ponders this, maybe she is being too hopeful; but, one of them has to, right?


	26. Darling, this is no Joke; it's Lycanthropy

Remus watches with vacant eyes as his father packs an overnight bag; tonight's the night, the night he becomes a monster. Seeing the man fold up a second shirt, the werewolf wonders if his father isn't feeling extra guilty this month and will stay away not one night, but two. He thinks of his mother-tears silently slipping from the tip of her nose into her cold tea. A spark of fury ignites inside him, flourishes into an all-consuming rage. Stomping through his parents doorway, he goes to the bed where his father's bag lay and tosses it to the ground.

His father freezes. "Remus-"

"NO!" He shouts, "I'm tired of you always leaving!"

His father's hands begin to tremble and it's only a matter of time before the shirt slips from his fingers. The man's brow takes on a sweaty sheen. "Remus," he croaks, "You know why I can't stay."

Frustrated and seething from not five years of anger, but over thirty, the boy shakes his head. "That's not good enough any more!" He cries, "Just-just because you feel  _guilty_ doesn't mean you get to leave mum all alone!" Lip trembling as he fights not to sob, Remus utters, "It doesn't mean you get to pretend I'm  _normal_ ; 'cause I'm  _not_ and I'm tired of thinking there's something  _wrong_ with me!" He's crying in earnest now and he can hear mother on the stairs, through his tears he sees father get to his knees and reach out to lay one of those large hands on him when his mother's voice cuts through the air.

"Don't touch him," she hisses, her shoes click on the floorboards and soon her arms are scooping him from the floor; cradling him.

Arms instinctively wrapping around her neck, the boy wails into her shoulder. "I'm  _not_ a monster!" He whimpers, voice muted by her floral print dress.

"Never," she swears, soothing him with the warm anchor of her hand on the back of his head playing with his tawny strands; he hears her say, "I think you should leave, Jonathan."

He can hear his father sigh. "Okay," he whispers and with a soft pop, father's gone (who knows how long).

* * *

The afternoon leading to the full-moon, is quite possibly one of most uneasy since his first transformation. Playing with the soup in front of him, Remus chuffs a breath and plops his elbow on the table so he can rest his chin on his fist. Mother, from across the table looks up pointedly from her book. "You need to eat Remy," she reminds him.

Sulking, the youth barely spares his mother a glance. "I'm not hungry," he mutters.

He hears her exhale, "You know it goes better when you eat your meals."

Nastily, Remus chooses to throw away the side-stepping. "You mean when I wolf out?" He demands.

Mother pauses, face taking on a look of hesitation and no little worry. "I-yes," she agrees.

Looking up, he looks into his mother's umber eyes and tells her, "You shouldn't have told him to go," mother opens her mouth; Remus doesn't let her speak. "I mean, it's not fair he gets to just play make believe that I'm  _normal,_ while you're stuck here listening to it all."

Mother looks at him in a sad way. "Darling, you're father feels guilty about it all-"

"Of course he does!" Remus shouts, "But, he shouldn't! It's not like he knew that lunatic would bite me!"

Lips tight and shoulders raised, his mother makes a point of turning a page in her book. "Yes, but that doesn't stop a man from feeling guilty," she counters.

Slumping back, the werewolf's eyes rove over his mother; trying to find some explanation. "Then why do you stay mum? Why do you stick through his all alone when he gets to disappear?" He asks.

Eyes trained hard on her novel, she murmurs, "I'm your mother, Remus," slowly looking up, she imparts, " _I'd_ feel guilty if I wasn't here to suffer through it with you-in fact, I feel guilty that I can't take your place."

Remus drops his gaze to his now cool soup, "I'm sorry mum," he whispers.

She reaches across the table and puts a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, my little wizard." The boy manages to smile at the woman.

* * *

Waiting in the darkness with only the moonlight for company, his heart thuds heavy in his chest. Remus feels the change begin; he feels the way his bones curve and stretch, the way his skin taunts and pulls; it hurts,  _hurts so much_! And he doesn't even have the Wolfsbane potion to take the edge off, nor to maintain that glimmer of humanity in the beast that is his werewolf form. Soon, (far too soon) all he knows is the instincts of an animal that only wants to hurt, maim and kill...

"Remus," a voice whispers, "Remus, my boy, wake up!" They exclaim in hushed tones, a hand gently shaking his sore shoulder. He groans and curls in on himself. Leave him be. Leave him to die peacefully. "Okay," the voice mutters, "I guess we'll just do it this way." Something's thrown over him and arms then lift him from the ground, cradling him.

He catches whiff of spearmint and ink; the scent of his father. Eye creaking open, he sees the shadow-cast face of his father above him. "Dad?" He breathes.

The man's teeth glow white in the sparse light. "It's me son," he answers.

Fingers tangling in his father's shirt, Remus says with no little awe, "You're here."

"I thought about what you said, Remy," he explains, "I-" he stops and Remus watches with impatience as his Adams apple bobs, "I saw it was hurting you and your mum more that I was gone."

Feeling amazingly proud and relieved, Remus closes his eyes and rests his head in the crook between his father's shoulder and neck. "I love you, dad," he proclaims, drifting back into sleep.

Waiting anxiously by the kitchen window, Samantha Lupin wrings out a dish towel as she waits for her husband to reappear from the shed with their son. Glancing out for the hundredth time between doing the dishes, she sees her husband with Remus in her arms; but-there are tears on his face. The dish in her fingers slips and shatters on the floor; however, the woman doesn't care. Running from the house, she screams, "Jonathan!"

The man looks up from their son's face, he's mildly surprised; yet, smiles brilliantly at her. Confused, Samantha stops short and waits for her husband to come to her. A moment later, he's standing just inches from her; their bruised and battered son in hand. "Sam," he whispers.

Reaching out to brush his wet cheeks, she demands, "Why are you crying Jon?"

His eyes fall back to their son and she wonders if she wasn't wrong-what if something  _is_ wrong with their son? Carefully hugging their boy close to him, Jonathan continues to smile. "Oh Sam," he mumbles, "He said I  _love_ you dad..." Samantha parts her lips, but doesn't say a word. When  _was_ the last time her son said I love you to Jonathan? She can't remember...before he was bitten? After? It was a long, long time ago. Looking at her with eyes gleeful and stated, Jonathan remarks, "I want him to say it again."

Placing a hand on her son's cheek and her other on her husband's shoulder, the woman doesn't lie. "Then you have to stop hiding-taking the cowards way out," she tells him, "You have to show we're a united family and that it-that it doesn't  _matter_ that he's cursed." Sucking in a breath, she whispers, "That  _you_ love him no matter  _what._ "

Her husbands stares at their son a long time. "I'll try Sam," he declares, "God I'll try."


	27. The First Stone is Cast: I

James wakes up to tapping at his window. Scrubbing an uncovered eye, he squints towards the pane of glass to see an owl waiting for him. Yawning, he fumbles his way off his bed and to the window; opening it up, he gets a Chocolate Frog card and scrap of paper dropped into his unprepared finger. The owl hoots once and is off once more. The messy haired boy narrows his eyes at the slip of paper, but can't read the careful cursive; grumbling under his breath, James hurries to his beside table and puts his glasses on. He nearly does a double take on what he reads.

_One thirty tonight, the word is time turner_

Mouth open, he feels a shiver run through him and he can't say if it's from joy or fear; but, James does know the anticipation is already crippling him. Scurrying to get dressed, he puts the card in his back pocket and whistling jovially heads down stairs for breakfast. In a matter of hours, he'll see his best friends and wife again (everything will be perfect).

He spends the day more or less wandering from activity to activity-start in the library, move to running up and down the halls, next to the kitchen begging for a snack, finally to the back yard to mess around with his broom and then back to the beginning again to repeat. Mother and Father, while a bit bemused; seem happy to see him so hyperactive. It reminds him then that he had been that way once-on the move, chattering, smiling...being apart of the war had changed that; he vows to be that way again.

* * *

Getting up from bed, James dresses; he doesn't think of his parents just down the hall or that at any time they could wake up and check up on him only to find him gone. Walking over to his desk where he left the Chocolate Frog card, he picks it up and stares down at the snoozing face of Bowman Wright*. Looking to the clock sitting at an odd angle in one corner of his desk; he watches the clock turn from one twenty-eight to one twenty-nine. Only a minute more. Taking a deep breath, James slips his glasses on and squeezes his eyes tightly shut (it helps when traveling by portkey, he's found). A moment later, he feels the familiar tugging at his belly-button and prays that this  _will_ end well and not be some terrible mistake...

When he feels the spinning and pulling stop, he's immediately knocked to the ground. "Ah!" He cries, struggling against the larger body.

"What's the word?" Is the demand he gets.

Squinting an eye open, he sees Lucius Malfoy-the most dignified of  _dignified_  glaring down at him with askew hair and flushed cheeks.

"Time turner!" The bespectacled boy shouts and after a quick study of his shocked face, the blond gets off and dusts himself off.

"I apologize," he murmurs-not sounding sorry in the least, "But, I needed to jump you before you could do anything, you see?"

James scowls, "Oh yeah," he sneers, "Couldn't of just used some detection spell on me? I bet you know enough."

The older boy glares down at him. " _My father_ hasn't done any magic in months, don't you think the ministry would be a little miffed if they detected magic all of a sudden in the middle of the night no less?"

Head whipping around, he only sees the Black sisters. "I-your father? He's  _here_?" He whispers.

The other roles his eyes. " _No,_ he's  _dead."_ The teenager growls.

"Oh, um," James sputters incapable of finding the right words, but it seems unimportant because suddenly,  _Lily's_ in front of him...with a dark shadow behind her.

Face green, James wife (can he still call her that?) utters, "I think I'm going to be sick."

A hand over his mouth, Snape steps beside her and mutters something that sounds like, "me too."

Sighing, the oldest Black sister steps forward conjuring two trash cans for the duo-which, earns a glare from Lucius, he might add. The boy and girl fall to their knees at practically the same time and begin retching only seconds apart. By the time they finish, it's the black-haired boy who speaks first. "I  _hate_ portkeys."

Miserably, Lily wipes at her mouth and nods. "I know," she agrees.

"Lily...?" James tries taking a step towards her.

The redhead looks his way. "James," she greets, a hesitant smile on her face. Yet, before another word can be said, Remus pops into existence.

Eyes landing easily on James, the werewolf grins, "Hullo James, been a long time hasn't it?"

the bespectacled boy tilts his head. "It has," he concurs, his own mouth lilting up.

A few seconds later, Sirius is there, his brother clinging to his robe. "Get him a bucket!" Sirius shouts, shoving his brother away.

Bellatrix once again rolls her eyes and levitates one of the buckets to the white-faced child who promptly pukes his gut out. Wand tapping her chin in contemplation, the oldest amongst them mumbles, "Maybe portkeys weren't the best option."

Lucius gives a bit of a shrug. "Please," he drawls, "Like you had any better suggestions."

She scowls at her once-brother in law and banishes the two buckets. "Instead of being petty," she grits, "Why don't we get down to business?"

"But-" James starts, but Malfoy, two of the Black sisters and Snape send him scathing glares.

"I don't want this turning into a free for all before we have a  _civil_ discussion about what we are to do!" Bellatrix snaps.

Sirius, rebellious as ever, starts a dissenting cry. "Sod off, Bellatrix! Who put you in charge!?"

Feeling a bit of confidence return, James joins in his friend's argument. "He's right, you know," he says in empathetically.

Teeth baring in a snarl, Bellatrix falls back into a couch and declares, "Alright then, if you don't think  _I_ should have any authority in this, why don't we put Severus and Lucius in charge, hm? They  _are_ the ones who put this together."

A mulish glint comes to the eldest Black brother's eye, but Lily decides to speak up. "She's right," Lily comments, "They  _did_ put this together, I've watched them send letters back in forth for nearly a month...and the older of you are going away to Hogwarts in a matter of days." Eyes slowly coming to rest on each one of them, (longer on James and Snape out of everyone), she explains to the gathered youths, "We  _need_ this to go well, set a plan in action; because it will be infinitely harder to do anything once you lot are at Hogwarts."

Looking to the black-haired boy beside his wife from another life, he sees him looking at Lily almost fondly. It makes his blood boil and James nearly lashes out just then-even takes the step towards him; however, Lily's eyes quickly find him and flash with great warning as she purposefully takes Snapes hand and leads him towards one of the scattered sofas and armchairs. Watching the pair settle into the seat, their arms even  _touching_ James wonders if he's lost his wife-if he ever  _had_ her.

"Sit down," the redheaded girl orders and with some mild grumbling, everyone does so.

Appearing mildly impressed, the boy beside  _his_ Lily begins, "Now, what I want to know is what day-or night everyone arrived here on.

Malfoy is the one to speak first . "July eighteenth, the day my father died." He answers and this is the same date everyone else gives.

Studying them curiously, James is sure he can see something fast and frightening happening in the other boy's shadow-eyes. "Is there anything ssignificant about that date  _other_ than Lucius's father's death?"

"Oi! What happened to you Snape? Lisping now?" Sirius shouts from across the room a rather pleased grin on his face.

James face quirks in a smirk and looking to Remus's direction, he sees the other shaking his head. Something dark and nasty overcomes Snape's face. "Sev..." Lily hisses, hand laying gently on his arm; yet, the other shakes it off and approaches the oldest of the two Black boys.

Holding his breath, James watches with rapt attention as the black-haired git leans in close to his best mate's face. "You think it's funny, do you  _mutt_?" He seethes, "Would you think it sso funny if you knew  _how_ it happened?" He demands.

"Severus!" Lily snaps, the boy looks towards the girl and Lily's eyes soften infinitely. "You don't need to tell him," she begs, "He doesn't deserve to know."

Eyes glancing between the still smirking boy and his childhood friend, he considers her words. "Maybe," he agrees, "I've told you your sson was protected by me during his time at Hogwarts," What? Protected by  _Snape_?! Maybe someone made Snape do it? Or, at least James hoped so (he doesn't think he can ever hope to comprehend this news if Snivellus did it of his own freewill. "But, did I tell you who cared for him before Hogwarts?"

The blood leaves Lily's frightened face. "I-no," she whispers.

The skinny boy's gaze turns far away. "He was raised by Petunia and I had thought-hoped that he had been as sspoiled as his glutton of a cousin..."

Tears leak from Lily's eyes and James remembers with coming clarity something his wife once told him about the sister that refused to show at their wedding.

_"Why won't she come? Didn't you want her as your bride's maid?" He asked confused._

_He watches his wife look away and naw her lip. "I had," she whispered, "But, Tuney hates magic, you see..."_

Sweat trickling down his collar, James waits with gut clenching fear for the Slytherin's next words. "But, my hopes and beliefs were proven wrong in the face of his memories; do you know what I ssaw?" He hisses, "I ssaw a loveless life! Maybe not one that left him battered and broken-like my own. But, do you know how he sspent his first eleven years? He sspent them thinking there was no good in the world! That he was nothing and would always be nothing!" He roars.

A finger raising in accusation at the slack jawed Sirius, James feels sick to his stomach. What's Snape trying to get at? Isn't what he just said bad enough? What else could he possibly say to make it worse? Glaring hard at Sirius, the black-haired youth reveals the worst thing James has ever heard. "If he had been a normal orphan, not the famed boy-who-lived, he could have easily turned into ssomeone like me! Ssomeone even worse! Maybe even ssomeone like  _Voldemort_!"

Lily's hands are covering her mouth and Sirius looks too deeply stunned to do much of anything, but not James. No, he's absolutely  _furious_ ; he has no right! None at all to say his son could have ever,  _ever_  become someone like that  _monster!_ Rocketing from his seat, James gives a battle cry and tackles that greasy git where he stands.


	28. The First Stone is Cast: II

The moment Severus's head thuds against the rug and he feels the weight of the body pressing into him, sense begins to leave him; when a fist collides with his nose? Well, he's not at all present in the room any longer, he's retreated into the corner of his protected mind and leaves his survival to his magic's instinctual need to keep him alive. Distantly, he hears yelling, things rattling; maybe even a few breaking, but what pierces through it all is a single shrill cry.

"Get  _off_ him! You infuriating idiot!" Suddenly, the heavy weights torn off him and exhaling in hesitant relief; he cracks a single eye open to see two people-one blond, the other a redhead.

Seeing that it's likely over, he murmurs, "m'fine." And closes his eyes, drifting somewhere into the darkness of his mind...

Cradling the limp body, Lily blots at the mess of a nose and wonders how she's ever going to explain this to her parents in the morning. Severus, for his part-the ridiculous boy-had had the audacity to tell her he was okay before passing out on her. Stubbornly refusing to look up from the pale, red splattered face; she growls, "What's wrong with you James? Attacking someone like that? You aren't a  _child._ "

"I beg to differ," Lucius grumbles, inspecting the damage done to his parlor. James looks mutinous, but after receiving a cold glare from Lily; smartly keeps his mouth shut. Not even taking notice of the silent conversation between the younger children, he goes on in his inspection and picks up a shattered bobble. Shaking his head, the blond sighs, "Some of these were family heirlooms."

Narcissa, for her part, smiles at him. "Oh hush," she chides, "You've told me before this was one of your less favorite rooms anyway." Pecking his cheek, she suggests, "I'll redecorate it after I marry you."

The blond, in rare show, leans in stealing a kiss from his wife's pink lips. "Yes," he agrees, "I suppose you could."

Biting her lip, Lily looks to them a bit desperate. "Can someone fix his nose? I don't know what my parents will do if they see it."

Bellatrix comes to her side and kneels next to her. "I think I could," she explains, "I've used the spell a few times-not always the best result I'll admit, but acceptable."

Lily nods. "Do it," she answers.

Bringing her wand to the mess of a nose, she silently casts a spell and the nose takes a less flattened appearance; finally appearing as it had before-if not a bit crooked. "Here," the older girl mumbles, offering a handkerchief. "To clean off the blood," she explains when Lily does not move to take it.

Putting down the other blood-soaked cloth, the redhead takes it. "Thank you," she whispers and gets to work at scrubbing away the half-dried sanguine from her friend's face.

Remus, who's been silent since they all arrived, finally speaks. "I-wasn't he a Death-eater? All of you were, weren't you?"

Lucius and Narcissa share a glance and Bellatrix obstinately stares at nothing. "Well-" Narcissa begins, "We defected, our son was more important than the lord's mission at that point and Severus...he was a spy-a double agent."

"Yes," the blond boy mutters, "The Potter boy wouldn't shut up about it."

"That's my son your talking about!" James snaps, fury overcoming him again.

Sneering, the blond demands, "So? What are you going to do about it?"

This causes the bespectacled child to back off and instead stew in his anger. "Why should we believe what you're saying?" Sirius asks, from where he's tucked beside his brother holding a cloth to stem the bleeding of the cut on his shoulder caused by Snape's magical outburst.

Andromeda, pale and wide eyed, clears her throat. "I was there-after," she reminds everyone. "Harry did proclaim Severus innocent and believed him a hero in the end-even named a son after him."

Lily awes at this. "Really? Sev's going to freak when I tell him." She grins a little.

This brings a number of chortles from the room's occupants, but the atmosphere heavies once more due to Regulus's anxious question. "Are we going to cut this meeting short? I mean-" he gestures to the still boy in the redheaded girl's arms and goes on, "He's the one who helped you pull this together."

This brings a troubled frown to Lucius's face. "We  _have_ to continue, this is our only chance until..." his shoulder's slump. "We might not have a true meeting again until next year."

"How's this going to work then?" Sirius inquires gruffly, "With you lot having a lovely time at Hogwarts while the rest of us are stuck at our homes."

Bellatrix gives a brittle laugh. "A lovely time, dear cousin? This year I will be inducted into Voldemort's inner circle under the threat of  _death._ "

A quiet sound of panic slips from Narcissa's lips. "You  _can't_ Bella, you  _can't_ join him." She begs her sister.

The girl looks away. "I  _have_ to, if I don't they'll force Andromeda and if not her...you." She explains.

Eyes rapidly looking between the boy in her lap and the tall girl pacing by the fireplace; an idea comes to Lily. "Become a spy like Sev was!" She bursts.

This brings everyone's eyes to the girl and then to the teenager, waiting for her response. Tapping her boot on the floor, Bellatrix weighs the choice. She would still serve the lord...but, maybe in the end she'll have the redemption she desperately wants. "I'll think about it," she decides, "It won't happen until winter holidays."

Clearing his throat, Lucius makes a choice. "We'll scope out the school-for people like us and try to keep everyone in the loop."

James, though still glowering at everyone, decides to validate Lucius's words. "I expect a letter a week."

Eyeing the boy, Lucius nods. "Understood."

"Wait," Remus calls, "You can't all be sending a bunch of letters; it will look suspicious."

Regulus perks up and remarks, "He could send one out and we send it off to everyone else; like a chain letter."

Smiling his way, Narcissa compliments her youngest cousin. "That's an excellent idea, Regulus." The boy briefly smiles her way and accepts the comment with a bob of his head.

"Is there anything else that needs real discussion now?" Bellatrix asks from where she's slumped in an armchair.

"I want to know why  _my son_  was raised by a bunch of magic-hating muggles!" James cries.

Lily, for her part agrees. "Yes would someone please explain?" Lily concurs.

Sirius and Remus share a look and then glance back to them. "Well, I'm a werewolf," Remus states, "And Sirius was locked away in Azkaban because everyone thought he was the one to betray you-not-" He cuts himself short, swallowing thickly.

Cradling the body against her, Lily can almost imagine it's her son she's holding in her arms. "Yes, but who let Harry go to Tuney? I  _know_ I left a strong note saying she was only to be the last resort."

Face void of any emotion and eyes cold, Sirius says, "Then I guess Dumbledore thought they reached that point."

Tears gathering, the girl pleads with them. "Surely there must have been  _someone_ -"

"If you want to know  _why_ Dumbledore made the choice, you'd have to ask Snape; he was the potions professor of Hogwarts at the time." Remus gently cuts in.

"Hey! I always wondered, what kind of professor did he make?" James questions.

Sirius cracks a grin. "The worst-he was demanding and was as biased as they come!" He laughs.

"Stop!" Lily snaps, "Don't say things like that! It's not fair when he can't even fight you!" And doesn't that throw her in a loop? Here she had discouraged fighting between the Marauders and Severus, but now she was telling them to stop because Severus couldn't hurt them back. Maybe he hadn't ever had the numbers to win against the James and his friends, but Severus had a wit and intelligence that won him battles without ever having to draw a wand; it at least made it (more) fair when they fought.

"This is getting out of hand," Andromeda mumbles to her older sister, "Do you think we should cut the meeting off now before Snape wakes up and another fight breaks out?"

Hand flitting to her mouth in indecision, the teenager frowns. "Let's check with Lucius...but, you're probably right." Waving a little towards the blond holding her baby sister's hand, Bellatrix hisses. "Lucius!" The boy responds instantly, coming to stand on her unoccupied side.

"What do you need Bellatrix?" He inquires.

"No, I don't need anything," the young woman answers, "Andromeda and I think we should probably wrap things up before Severus wakes."

The boy observes the group of children. "You're right," he agrees. Clapping his hand, he draws the attention of the Gryffindors and Regulus. "Okay, I think we're done for tonight."

"What!?" Sirius cries, "We didn't do anything!"

The older boy frowns at him. "We took stock," he explains, "That's all we really needed to do."

Regulus touches his brother's arm. "We shouldn't stay much longer anyway," he reminds his brother, "Father has a tendency to check up on us during a bout of insomnia-which he's in right now."

The older brother glowers, "I-yeah," he grunts. "Let's head on back."

Walking to the pair, Lucius pulls a portkey from his pocket. "It'll activate in a couple of minutes," he tells them. "In fact, everyone's will." Quickly handing them out, he hesitates at the sight of Lily and Severus. "Maybe I should take you back to your home myself," he hesitates.

Lily makes a grabbing motion, "Don't worry, Severus has hardly ever weighed a thing. I'll be fine."

"Lily!" James yelps with sudden remembrance, "Why is  _Snape_  living with you?"

Lily is silent for a while. "I don't know why I should tell you," she begins, "You've been nothing but rude tonight and I-James, why should it matter?" She demands, when the bespectacled boy just stares at her with open mouth she shakes her head. "His mother's dead and his father-he's not a nice man." The girl finally answers, the boy looks like he wants to say more; however, the portkeys begin to twist at the spot behind her bellybutton and everything becomes a blur as they are delivered back home.

* * *

Landing on the steps of her home, Lily slings Severus's arm over her shoulder and tugs him into the house. He briefly wakes enough to help her help him up the stairs, but passes out again at their bedroom. Groaning at this, the redhead drags him the last few feet before dumping him on the bed. Crawling up, she situates the dark-haired boy under the quilt and then lays herself beside him. "That could have gone better, couldn't it have, Sev?" She warbles; sniffling, she weeps.

* * *

James arrives back in his bedroom, staring out at the cloudy night sky from his large bay window. Numbly finding his way beneath his sheets, all he can think of is how unsatisfying the meeting was; how  _his_ wife chose  _Snivellus_ over him, how he and his boyhood friends barely got to speak before Lucius and the Black sisters were commandeering the meeting, most of all, that no one had  _any answers._  Tucking his head beneath his pillow, James mumbles "This sucks." Soon, his weary body forces him to close his eyes and sleep.

* * *

Remus leaves the meeting feeling more confused and conflicted than when he arrived. He  _knew_ Snape had been a traitor to the order, but...something about Dumbledore's death had felt  _wrong_. So, to find out he'd been loyal to the cause in the very end leaves Remus with a feeling of peace towards Snape. But, the last thing Lily said...his mother dead? And his father not a nice man? He'd caught a glimpse of an empty spot in the row of the dark-haired child's teeth as he had ranted about Harry's upbringing, was that because of the other boy's father? Snuggling up under his covers for warmth as a feeling of dread takes him, Remus wanders; "What if we were the catalyst to him joining the Death-eaters?" It's not likely, he knows (hopes); yet, it's still a possibility and Remus hates himself for being that.

* * *

Wishing her sisters a good night, Bellatrix returns to her bedroom. Stopping in front of the full length mirror beside her wardrobe, Bellatrix stares at herself. She is not beautiful like Narcissa, but she is still pleasing to look at; with her long skinny body, curly brown tresses and full red lips. Seeing herself young, guileless in appearance; she hates herself all the more. Underneath the appearance of an innocent (well, close enough) girl she is a murderer-no a  _monster_. Fury bubbling up in her, the teenager bares her teeth and for a flicker of a moment; the monster inside appears before the mirror is cracked and ruined by a fist.

Her hand throbs and bleeds, bits of glass poking out from her skin. But, Bellatrix doesn't mind. The pain feels a little like compensation for all those she tortured and killed-she'll never be able to hurt enough for them; though, none of them are dead yet and maybe, she can make it up to them by saving them before they are in the beyond. Nodding at her distorted image, Bellatrix declares, "I shall save you all," the faces of her victims blur together in her mind and she whispers, "It won't change that I killed you, tortured you and hurt you." Breath shuddering; she promises, "But, I'll do my best to make it up to you."

* * *

They tumble into Sirius's room in a heap. Regulus hisses as he jars his shoulder and Sirius quickly grabs him and inspects the wound. "Ouch," he mumbles, "We really should have gotten Bellatrix to fix that for you, huh?" The older brother comments.

Weakly smiling, Regulus attempts to shrug; but winces instead. "I guess," he agrees, "But, I think it's not that deep."

Prodding at the hole in his shirt, the older boy reluctantly nods. "You're right," he exhales. "Why don't you head on to bed now? Or do you feel sick again?" He asks, studying him suspiciously.

Shaking his head, Regulus gets up from the floor. "No, I'm fine," he replies; maybe a bit woozy, but he's already lost his dinner.

Sirius smiles. "That meeting huh?" He says.

"Yeah," Regulus smirks. "I think the next time we meet, we'll have more to go on."

"Oh?" The older boy implores, "Why's that?"

"Bellatrix and the others will have gone to school by then...maybe run into someone who has an idea? Or find something in a book from the library?" He suggests.

Sirius nudges him towards the door and snorts. "Only if they dare to look in the restricted section!" He declares, "Now, for real, go to bed." Regulus gives a little laugh and hurries out of his brother's room...only to run into his father.

"Regulus?" He hisses, "What are you doing up?" Yanking him forward by his shoulder, the boy yelps and his father pulls away. Staring at his hand in the dim light, Orion sees something that makes his blood both boil and cool. "Why is their blood on my hand?" He demands.

Staring up at his father speechless and afraid, Regulus fumbles to get back into his brother's room. Slamming the door, behind him, Sirius looks at him from where he's changing. "What's wrong?" He inquires.

A fist bangs on the door outside. "Open this door, before I do Regulus! Or you won't like what happens to you!" Orion Black shouts.

Eyes as wide as his younger brother's Sirius utters, "Shit."

* * *

Staring at the empty room full of broken pottery and trinkets, Lucius shakes his head. "Should have held this this in an empty room," he grumbles. "Timbles!" He calls, instantly an elf appears. "Clean this up for me," he orders.

"Yes master-sirs," Timbles agrees.

Running a hand through his flaxen-toned hair, the teenager decides sleep is in order. "Good night, Timbles," he mumbles leaving the room.


	29. Don't Tell me of Heartbreak

"I  _mean_ it, boys!" Their father hollers, "One! Two! Th-" The door opens and Orion can't stop himself from ungraciously falling to the floor of his eldest son's room. He's absolutely murderous at this point. However, the two identical frightened, wide-eyed looks from his sons as Sirius does his best to hide the peeking Regulus, causes some of the anger to cool. The sight is too much like what he's certain he and his sister Lucretia must have looked like in their youth. Picking himself off the floor, it doesn't stop Orion from yanking his oldest son away from Regulus. Glaring down at the defiant child, he hisses, "What did you and your brother do?"

Jaw firmly shut, Sirius refuses to say a word and the man had expected as much. Shoving the boy aside, he snags Regulus by the back of his collar before he can return to his older brother's side. "What did you and your brother do?" He demands. The boy's mouth opens, but he doesn't utter a word. Watching his eyes dart to his brother and then around the room; he knows whatever the child says will be a lie. "And do  _not_ lie to me!" He snaps.

"I took Reg outside to get back at him for breaking my foot!" Sirius cries from behind. Cursing himself for ever letting his older son outside of his line of vision (because he is so much easier to read than Regulus), he can't tell if the boy is lying. What Sirius has said is almost plausible and reasonable enough considering Sirius's regular behavior towards his younger brother.

"So you cut him?" He asks, sneering at him son.

"Yeah!" Sirius agrees, looking half hesitant.

"With what?" Orion demands.

Sirius and Regulus share a look, "Um..." the older boy murmurs, "With a-"

Holding out a hand for his son to stop, the man says, "I know you're lying." At the pale faces of the children, he snarls, "Tell me the truth or get ready for me to whip it out of you."

Both children appear utterly speechless and it sets alarm bells off in his head; Orion  _knows_ the mere mention causes Regulus to tremble and Sirius has always done his best to find a way to argue for anything  _but_ the whip. Eyes never wavering from his children, he realizes-maybe for the first time-something is  _different_ about them. While obviously still in conflict, they seem closer than he's seen them since they were very small; Sirius is going out of his way to keep  _Regulus_ safe.

Eyes hard and glinting with something much too old for a boy's face; Sirius comes toe to toe with Orion and grits out with quiet fury, "We  _aren't_ lying."

Orion slaps the boy. "I do not appreciate you disrespecting me by continuing to lie," he scowls.

A hand on his cheek, his elder son's face is blank. "Sirius-" Regulus nervously begins, trying to place a hand on his brother's shoulder. However, the older boy knocks it back and snarling like a-a  _dog,_ he viciously trains his eyes on the man.

"You  _never_ appreciate  _anything_!" He howls and magic whips out from the boy with frightening strength; knocking him back against the flapping bedroom door. Wincing, he gazes with big eyes at his older son. "All you ever want is for us to be what  _you_ want and even when we do that you  _still_ treat us like we aren't good enough! Well! I'm  _tired of it!_ " And suddenly where his son was, a black dog is baring his teeth at him; before he can even gasp, the dog launches himself at him.

"NO!" Regulus cries, "Get off him Sirius!" And watching from behind his arms, Orion sees his small son yanking back the irate dog. Once the child has the beast far enough away he doesn't have to worry about the dog killing him, the man sees his young boy patting and soothing the dog until it morphs back into his older son. Sirius is tearful and despondent in his brother's grip.

"Are you going to kill me now?" The older of the two whispers.

Heart pounding still, Orion feels undone. What does he say to a son that is obviously more powerful than he shall ever be? To a son who hates him with an intensity worthy of murder? To one who thinks  _he_ a  _normal_ wizard could possibly kill him? What can he do? He doesn't know. "I won't," he tells his son.

"Sell me to  _Lord_ _Voldemort_?" Is his follow up retort? Or is it a question? The man can't tell. Either way, his son irks him just as he always does.

Glowering at his son, Orion shakes his head. "What good would that do? You're powerful, yes," he admits, "But, I've known since you were just a baby and you would refuse to let go of your mother's for anything less than food-sometimes even not that, you have always been stubborn. If I gave you to the lord and he wished to have you do something you would not, he would try to bend you-break you even; you, though, you bullheaded child, would end up dead before he could even make you crack."

His sons gape at him, Orion is left wondering if he's ever said so much to his children. Has he done wrong by them? Do they see him as something impersonal? "I-" he clears his throat, staring at the two youths, "What am I to you?"

"You're our  _father,_ " Sirius sputters confused.

Glancing to Regulus he isn't disappointed by the little cogs he sees turning behind the glimmer of his son's eyes. "You're-You're  _abstract,_ " the youngest whispers, "And idea that's never concrete enough to be proven right or wrong."

"I don't know about that one-" Sirius breaks in, but Regulus covers his mouth and the look in his younger son's eyes are almost ghostly in the dark.

"I believe what you do," he murmurs, "Because that's what children are supposed to do, right? At least that's what I've read from the books in the library...and Sirius, he doesn't read. Not a lot anyway; he thinks your wrong-all wrong."

Slumping back against his child's bedroom door, the man knows he's done wrong by his sons. Done everything wrong. Here he thought he was doing well by leaving his sons to themselves (as he had always wished for as a boy) and only punishing them when he thought it a particularly note worthy crime. Walburga was never overly warm with the children; but, the way she looked at them sometimes, he knew she loved them. Sighing, he tears his gaze from his boy's glistening eyes. "Do you know what your grandfather was like, boys?" He asks them.

Slowly, they shake their heads. He's glad for this, the man had been dead by the time Regulus was born. "He was an unkind man," he whispers, "He was never satisfied with just our-your Aunt and I's-mother...he-" Orion stops. He won't go on, can't dare ruin his children by giving them anymore. "Your mother and I knew we weren't fit to raise children...but, it wasn't an option to  _not_ have any." The man explains to the boys, "We-We do  _love_ you both-" he chokes on this and finally looks back to his terrified sons.

"You aren't just saying stuff?" Sirius warbles, appearing quite shaken by his father's words.

Chuckling, Orion tosses his head side to side. "Not even if I tried...no matter how un-slytherin it makes me sound." This cracks a grin from Regulus and a grin from Sirius. It's a bit of a relief to know he can still bring pleasant emotions to his sons' countenances, opening his arms to his only children he utters, "Come here."

The two boy's meet gazes for a moment and then together approach him. Once they are close enough; the father takes both children in his arms and hugs them harder than he thinks he has since they were wee tots. "You're my sons," he tells them, "No matter what, okay?"

Regulus wriggles a bit. "Does mother care for us?" He inquires, eyes downcast and face carefully clear of all emotion. It hurts, Orion realizes, to know his children think so little of him and Walburga. "She loves you just as much-more even, I bet," he confides in them.

Rubbing Sirius's back, he smiles just briefly at the boy. "When did you learn to turn into a dog?"

The boy raises his shoulders and then lets them fall. "A few nights ago? I've been practicing for  _forever,_ " he admits (though, it still seems like a lie).

Tilting his head to the cut on his youngest's shoulder, he then implores, "And the cut?"

"Accident," Regulus pipes up. "I was being silly after Sirius showed me he could turn into a dog; I fell and hit a rock." The boy tells his father looking almost sheepish. It doesn't at all feel quite right to him, but, Orion can't bring himself to upset what little progress he's made with his sons in the way of understanding each other. Pulling the boys away, he uses them as leverage to stand up.

"Okay, off to bed;" he orders.

Sirius salutes him in a manner he would usually find to be undermining his authority; but, tonight, Orion wonders if his son isn't just trying to be funny. It would make sense at least, if Regulus's snickers are anything to go by. "Goodnight father," Regulus mumbles brushing past him-almost leaning into his side briefly. When the younger of the two is gone, Orion watches his older son undress and get into his bed.

Going to him, he does something he doesn't think he's ever done for Sirius; he tucks him in. The boy is absolutely still as he does so, his stare never wavering from him. "Goodnight, Sirius," he murmurs.

He's half-way out of the room when a tiny sound floats to his ears, "Goodnight father." The man walks a little lighter back to his bedroom that night.


	30. And now the Ghosts are on the Porch

Coming to the train station alone hurts a lot more than he thought it would. He maybe far too old to long for a hug from a mother, a ruffling of his hair from a father, however he can't stop staring at the gathered families. Keeping his head carefully up and his shoulders back as he walks with half-blindness, Lucius slowly works his way through the crowds and nearly steps through one of the Hogwart's Express doors when a shout makes him stop.

"Lucius!"

Turning, the boy feels his stomach drop at who he sees; it's Rabastan Lestrange and his brother Rodolphus. Forcing down a cringe, the blond does his best to put on an almost amicable look. "Rabastan, Rodolphus," he greets, lilting his voice into neutral grounds.

The younger one, Rabastan, smirks just a bit. "Where'd you disappear to this summer? I don't think either of us got one letter the second half of the summer..."

Lucius shrugs minutely. "I got caught up with father, I suppose," Lucius admits. "His illness took a turn for the worst in the past month."

Rodolphus pulls off a perfectly contrite frown. "That's unfortunate, not a the best way to spend the summer; eh?" He says with just enough joviality to steer the mood away from depressing. Of all things, Lucius feels  _grateful_ for it and wonders-not for the first time-if the people he thought he knew were truly the ones he is seeing. The older of the two claps a hand on his shoulder and makes to steer him inside, "Come on, Rosier's probably waiting for us." But, before he can be whisked away someone else calls for him-Narcissa.

"Lucius! There you are!" Jerking out of Rodolphus's hold to see his young wife's eyes shining at him.

Taking a step towards her, he smiles just a little. "Narcissa, it's good to see you."

There's silence from behind him, though, a moment later he feels the older Lestrange's touch and hears his deep murmur of "Good taste, I see. We'll save a seat for you, if you show up, that is." Glancing back, he can't help the disgust he feels at the wink. He's not a  _boy,_ such talk seems so very...improper, especially when it's about  _his wife_  (though, she's only so in memory).

"Thanks," he grunts, waiting impatiently for the two to stop in their dawdling and leave. Soon enough, they do so, leaving Lucius to stare at the girl.

Her lips lift. "Hi," she whispers almost shyly.

Stepping down to take her hand, Lucius curls a loose strand of hair from her ponytail behind her ear. "His yourself," he smirks.

Pecking his cheek fast and fleeting she chuckles. "Are they going to be expecting you?" She inquires.

Lucius shrugs, Rodolphus is definitely old enough to know how to spend time with a woman; but, Rabastan-a third year himself-still looks upon girls with faint boredom. "I can't say for sure," he admits, "But, I don't think anyone will laminate too much over my absence."

The strain around Narcissa's eyes relents and she smiles more fully. "That's good news, my sisters...they want to meet one last time before-well, you know."

Fingers locking easily with the girl's, the Slytherin nods. "Of course, lead the way 'cissa." And she does, they dart and weave through students crowding the corridors of the train until they come to one of the very last compartments. Knocking thrice times, it opens and Bellatrix gazes at the pair for all of a moment before ripping their hands apart.

"You're too young for that," she tells them seriously, "If we're going to keep up appearances, no hand holding, no hugging and no kissing in public-you can still flirt, if you like." Tilting her chin just so, she grins at them, "It's also much more Slytherin to do so."

"Thanks for the advice, Bellatrix," Lucius snarks. "It's just what I wanted to hear today."

Propping a hand on a hip, she leans quite gracefully on the door. "It's what you  _needed_ to hear."

"Yes, yes," Narcissa sighs, "May we come in...so we  _can_ do all those wonderfully  _forbidden_ things?" Moving aside so they can see Andromeda on the other side of opening smirking at them all, the two children step in allowing Bellatrix to close and lock the door. Bellatrix takes a seat beside her younger sister and carefully stares at Narcissa and Lucius as they curl up beside each other across from her-hardly giving her or Andromeda a glance.

It's a wonder, she's afraid to ask just how long they'd been separated before their ends.

Clearing her throat, Bellatrix says, "I think we need a bit of a plan."

"What do you have in mind?" Lucius questions, easily catching on.

"I  _do_ think a bit of a occlumency is in order-just to keep the errant look out of our minds." The seventh year explains to her sisters and brother-in-law.

"Won't that look suspicious?" Andromeda inquires with a frown.

"Not as much as memories of the  _future,_ " Lucius snorts; crossing his legs and leaning back more comfortably.

"I suppose," the older girl agrees with some hesitancy.

"I don't think it'll be overly necessary; just act as regularly as possible-no need for Dumbledore or anyone else to take a peak then," Bellatrix elaborates, hoping to win her sister over.

The younger exhales in defeat. "You're likely right."

Narcissa claps her hands, "What about a meeting place? And time? To compare notes and such?" She suggests.

"Yes, that's a good idea." Bellatrix nods, "I'll find us a room-unless you want to Lucius?" She asks at his frown.

"I-well, I believe I already know of a place...I just need to make sure it's as I remember," he imparts.

"That's good, Lucius," Narcissa smiles; squeezing his hand. "You figure it out and we can pick out a time from there." Face turning anxiously to her older sisters, she implores, "Does that sound alright to you two?"

Andromeda nods with a resoluteness and Bellatrix's gaze flickers between her sister and to Lucius. "Yes," she agrees softly, "It will do." And she truly hopes it will.

* * *

Watching as Lily's mother and father disappear into the new home with their bed frame sandwiched between them, Severus knows this is the best time to voice his question to Lily. "Why's he just staring at us? Doesn't he have anything better to do?" Severus hisses at the girl as they work together to bring her grandmother's rocking chair into the house. His eyes darting to the boy across the road and back to the rocking chair as they turn away from the moving truck.

The redhead can't help but roll her eyes, "Oh Sev, he's, like, nine. I bet he's just curious; how many new kids do you think he gets around here?" She thinks to inquire of her friend as they shift the chair to fit through the front door.

Uncomfortably, Severus admits, "It's not that his watching bothers me...he just looks  _familiar,_ I ssupose, like I've  _sseen_ him before."

Pausing, Lily squints her eyes at the neighbor boy; ignoring how Severus's grumbles at her. The boy's fawn-colored hair glints a pale gold in the midday light, his face is square in shape and their's a crookedness to his slight smile that makes the girl frown. "You're  _right_ ," Lily murmurs.

Putting down her end of the chair against Severus's protests, she easily skips to the curb and calls across the street, "Who're you?"

The boy's blue eyes widen just a bit and a bit more as Severus's scowling countenance comes next to her own. "Dirk," he answers, "Um, Dirk Cresswell."

She feels more than sees Severus still beside her. Abruptly, his hand snags hers dragging her back to the rocking chair. "C'mon Lily, let's finish this and then get a snack," he says this all a little too loudly; probably for Dirk's sake more than hers.

"I-okay?" The redhead agrees uncertainly. What's bothering Severus now? What does he know that  _she_  doesn't?

* * *

Ten minutes later, true to his word, they are in the kitchen snacking on an apple and pear respectively on the back stoop. "What got you so worked up, Sev?" Lily asks after a while.

Gnawing a little more at his pear, Severus mutters, "He was head of the Goblin Liaison office-he died during the war too."

Her apple slipping from her fingers, Lily watches numbly as it falls to the ground. "Oh," she whispers, "That's sad."

"Not as sad as what happened to his sons," the boy murmurs, tossing away his core. "But, let's not talk about any of that;" he says with some forcefulness, "We should finish helping your parents."

Lily would like to ask more questions, but she knows Severus won't answer her now. Following his lead, she walks past the front window to see Dirk looking thoughtfully at their home from his spot on the curb. "Where's this go?" Severus demands, holding out a un-proportional snail for her to see.

Puckering her lips, Lily points to the ledge of the fireplace; "Mum used to keep 'tuney's snail on the fireplace's ledge at our old house," she explains.

The boy nods and goes to place it there, glancing once more out the window; the redhead's sure she sees Dirk wave at her, yet Lily can't be certain because it happened so fast. Instead, she rummages some more in the boxes and with Severus's help turns their new living room into a home. Stealing a glance at Severus as he pushes around the coffee table to make more room for the rocking chair, Lily resolves to ask more about Dirk Cresswell; there's so much she doesn't know, too much. It irks her more and more each day to know so little when Severus appears to know all, one of these days, she'll just have to sit down with him and make him spill everything he knows. Putting a fern on one end of the coffee table, Lily smiles as the dark haired boy watches her.  _Soon,_ she whispers to herself,  _soon you'll have Sev tell you everything..._


	31. There are Holes (That I cannot Mend)

It's a strange-frightening-thing to sit beside his brother tense and terrified to even blink too long as their father talks with a quiet appreciation for the potion ingredients lined before him on his desk. Regulus doesn't know what made his father and mother forgo tutors and to teach themselves about magical basics, but it leaves not only Regulus strained and worried. Sirius, his obstinate; confrontational brother has turned sullen and restless with the unexpected change.

Watching his father was in actuality, magical in itself; Regulus thought. He pointed at the ingredients, talking at a quick speed in a soft almost happy inflection as his gaze meandered from the Asphodel, to the Belladonna, Dandelion root, Nettle and Nightshade.

"-these are just of the plants we have in our yard that you can use boys, there are far more interesting ones we can buy; if either of you are ever interested in brewing potions." He concludes, looking up at them with bright

Sirius huffs something like, "Don't want greasy hair like  _that_ git." Catching sideways the way his brother scowls, Regulus sighs.

"Yes father," he murmurs, accepting this fact, though he thinks it will never matter to him. He doesn't care for potions.

The light in the man's eyes fades some. "Good," he says. Shuffling the ingredients into a little pile, he picks them up and puts them in a box. Brushing his hands off on his slacks, he looks back at his two sons with a sort of droop to his countenance. "How does lunch sound?"

Sirius was up within a moment of it's last syllable. "Good father!" He exclaims and at this, Regulus blushes as his brother's and father's eyes come to him.

"I-good," he whispers. Taking lead, Regulus's brother leads them from their father's study and to the dining room where mother is already waiting.

Looking up from her quill and parchment, she gives one of those new, but almost reassuring smiles. "Hello boys," she greets. It sounds strange to Regulus's ears, for her to say something so informal; to look at them with an  _openness,_ yet he accepts it without thought (can't think, it would hurt too much).

"Mother," Regulus replies as Sirius gives a bark of laughter at the meal displayed for them-it's stew and carrot cake, a favorite of his older brother's.

"This is wicked!" Sirius says, "We need to do this everyday;" smiling as he holds out his bowl to the pot to magically have it ladled into.

"What do you think Regulus?" Orion asks politely as he pours himself a glass of wine and one for mother.

Eyes darting across the table, he sees the stew, the cake, the little sweet rolls his brother's always liked and pumpkin butter to go with it; (he hates carrot cake, and pumpkins, he doesn't much care for stew or the rolls either). Swallowing back the lump of rejection, Regulus pushes forward a smile so brilliant he's certain he's made his parents believe the leaded words that drip from his tongue. "It's wonderful father."

* * *

Remus had never been to school before Hogwarts-not that he'd minded, but now with all the undivided attention on him, it unnerves the werewolf (he supposes he'll grow used to it again). Tapping his fingers in a tune only known to him he listens with feigned interest as his mother talks maths.

"Now when four plus eight y equals x, what  _is_  x?" She questions.

Truthfully, Remus has never had much of a head for maths; this, though, is  _unbearable._ "It's negative half," he answers bored.

Putting down her pencil, his mother's lined eyes study him. "When did you get so good at maths? Before the summer you had trouble just graphing x and y..." the boy feels his heart beat pick up to a rabbit-pace, his mother smiles. "I think someone's been practicing in secret," she whispers.

Remus laughs at the absurdity, but it's quite a clever cover he thinks a moment later. "You got me," he grins, "I wanted to impress you."

A twinkle new to her eye, she asks excitedly; "Well, how far did you get in your studies then Remy?"

The werewolf stalls, what does he say? "I-I don't know..." he mutters nervously.

Shoulders moving in a shrug, mother's hair springs up briefly with the movement as she situations her teaching book in front of her. "We'll just have to take a few tests, I suppose."

Remus groans. "No..." her hand pinches his cheek.

"Come now, with all that studying they should be a breeze!" She chortles.

Squinting an eye open, Remus feels a smile tugging at his own mouth. "I suppose...but can't I get some chocolate for my trouble?"

Mother laughs again, "We'll see, it all depends on how well you do!" She tells him. A moment later, she waves her hand. "Now, go shoo for an hour; mum needs to fix up some tests for you to take."

Up like lighting, Remus is halfway to the doorway; before he calls, "Thanks mum!" Scurrying to the rack beside the door, he takes down his jacket and runs for the fields outback. Once there, he plops down in the knee-high grass and smiles up at the mildly cloudy sky. "I'm quite happy, Tonks," plucking a strand of grass, he toys with it in his fingers absently. The smile slowly drifting from his lips he murmurs, "I'd be happier if I were with you-with our son too."

A breeze picks up from behind him, it blows cool and slow and for a moment, Remus is sure he hears his name in its whistle.

* * *

James can't sit still as the tutors drone on. Getting up, he walks around his desk; gets a new quill-anything not to be sitting down. His Magical History tutor at his wits end, face purple and eyebrows almost a uni-brow; hisses, "Master Potter  _sit down_."

Looking out the tall window of his very own study, the messy-haired boy notices that the sun peaks around the gray clouds. "It's nice out today isn't it, sir?" He comments.

Snapping his book close, he can hear Mr. Tubb stopping up behind him and he knows he's going to yank him back to his seat. When he feels the thick fingers dig into his shoulder, James crouches forward balancing all his weight on his toes. "If you so much as dare to pull me, I'll tell my parents you threw me on the floor."

The man splutters. "What?" He demands.

Turning his head so he can glare up through his glasses at the tutor, James sneers. "You heard me," he declares; "Don't even dare to think they'll believe you over me, either." Stepping back from the unresistant hand, James leans against the cool window panes and remarks; "Wouldn't it be pleasant to have a lesson outside today?"

Pale and wide eyed, Mr. Tubb nods. "I-it would, Master Potter."

Smiling up at the man, James goes and plucks the tutor's book from the chair and cries; "What are we waiting for!"

Once outside, James settles much easier in the grass; listening with half-ear as the man drones on some more with a trembling voice. Plucking wild-flowers, he weaves them into rings, bracelets and crowns; he knows as a child he wasn't so conniving. Annoyingly loud and whiny maybe, but not outright threatening. Yet...James wonders if the latent Slytherin he'd always feared in himself (as mother so proudly pointed out on occasion) wasn't surfacing in this strange, new world. Putting the crown of multi-colored flowers he'd just finished on his head, James turns and looks directly at his tutor.

"I'm sorry Mr. Tubb," he sniffs, "I just really wanted to come outside."

Wearily, the man nods. "It's fine Master James."

Shoving a finger under his frames for safe measure, James wipes at a fake tear and bobs his head. "'m sorry," he repeats.

After an awkward pause, the man goes on with his lesson; voice steadier and stronger. Hating himself all the more at that moment, James prays he gets a hold of himself soon; he won't be Slytherin- _can't be_. Father doesn't like Slytherins, father  _kills_ Slytherins. What would he have done to him if he'd ended up in Slytherin? He doesn't think mother would have let the man kill him, disown him then? Where would he have gone if that happened? Sirius hates Slytherins too (does he still?), would he have gone and stayed with  _Snivellus_? No, his father beat the git. Maybe Malfoy...but, his father cursed Malfoy's. Rosier then? Lestrange? So many options, so many people he disliked, hated-people who hated  _him_. If James had been Slytherin...he'd be a death-eater, he would have handed over his very own son for the Dark Lord's purpose. If he had been Slytherin...would he have had a son? Had a family? Had Lily?

Would James have lived if he'd been Slytherin? (he thinks so).


	32. It's Just Begun

Lowering herself onto a couch in the common-area, Bellatrix lets just enough of the tension leave her bow-strung body with a carefully poised lean against the velvet green arm her slim fingers gently rubbing at her aching head. The stress and noise from the Great Hall has almost done her in, if it weren't for the fact that six and seventh years in Slytherin had a tradition of getting knackered on the first day back from break she would have gone straight to bed. She feels the motion of a body sitting next to her; opening open an eye she peers at the boyhood version of her husband-Rodolphus Lestrange.

Putting on a razor smile, Bellatrix pushes herself up straight and with proper curtness says, "Lestrange."

The muscular boy grins with a spark of challenge in his eyes. "You won't be calling me that much longer; your father and mine are settling on an agreement so we may be wed once I finish with schooling."

The seventeen-year-old presses down a sigh. This again? Hadn't they waited to put this on her until  _after_ her induction into the Lord's circle? Pondering it a second more, she thinks, maybe she was mistaken. Well, a lot of things she's mistaken on about those last few months before she became a Death-Eater. Patting his knee with jest, she flutters her eye lashes. "Oh? What will I be calling you? Dear? Honey?  _Sweetie pie_?" She teases, because, for all intents and purposes; Rodolphus hadn't been a very bad husband. She had even liked him. A little, anyway.

The young man's nose crinkles just a bit. "Ugh,  _no_." He grimaced.

After a moment of serious staring, the chortle and smirk at one another. "Oh enough of those lovey-dovey eyes!" Glinda Zabini tutted, rolling her perfectly done-up whiskey eyes. A jaunty smile on her painted lips, she hands them each a goblet of wine; her hand briefly touching Rodolphus's. Unbidden, it sent a surge of possessiveness through, Bellatrix; Glinda was by all accounts stunning-and Glinda herself knew it as well. Scooting so she touches the boy beside her, Bellatrix tilts her chin in a sultry way and says; "Thank you."

With one last look at the prize beater at her side, the olive-skinned teenager nods with a little wink and sways back to the boys staring at her across the room. Taking a sip of wine, Bellatrix looks to her future-husband. "How was your summer,  _Lestrange_?"

* * *

"Oh, it was fine." Andromeda offers, flipping through her text books. Years of not using Ancient Runes has left her quite rusty and if she wants any hope of being the student she remembers being, she better not waste a moment on frivolities (like talking to her roommates).

"Andromeda! Is that all you have to say?" Alecto Carrow huffs from her bed where she sits sharing fizzy cats with Nora Bulstrode.

Tapping her quill against her parchment, Andromeda glances up. "I'm sorry, but I haven't done my summer Ruins homework yet and..." she shrugs (their really isn't homework, but neither one takes the calls; so what's the harm?)

Henrietta Sabbath from her spot by the window laughs. "You're always so studious Andromeda! Why not put it down for a moment? I'm sure the Ruins professor won't mind too terribly if it's a day late." Reluctantly closing her book, Andromeda sets it aside. She remembers about mid-way third year she realized she didn't fit in with her yearmates and completely disapproved of their (and the rest of Slytherin's) condescending attitude towards muggles and muggle-borns; being here again is absolute  _torture._ Blue eyes dazzling with energy, the Sabbath girl tucks her knees to her chest and repeats Alecto's question.

"So? How was your summer?"

"Brilliant, my entire family-my aunt, uncles and cousins as well-went on a week trip to Italy. The weather was lovely and Narcissa and I collected some seashells along the beach near the cottage we were staying at." She tells them. That happened her summer before fifth year, right? Or was it sixth...she'd just have to give a heads up to her sisters, she supposed.

"Did you see any dashing gentlemen while you were there?" Nora shyly inquires, but their's a mischievousness to her eyes and it causes her roommates to giggle.

Her thoughts briefly flit to Ted; she truly gotten to know him at an internship as a healer at St. Mungos when he came in after he hurt himself playing a game of pick-up Quidditch with friends. He'd asked her out on a date afterwards and at the time, not knowing his blood-status, agreed; soon she fell in love with him and couldn't imagine life without him-not that her family understood that.

Shaking her head, Andromeda gives in to these girls' whimsies (how long has it been since she gossiped with a teenager?) "Oh I might of..."

* * *

Narcissa listens to their tittering and snickers happily, she's always enjoyed "woman talk" as Lucius called it. What he (and so many men) didn't understand is what could be found in that gossip...Melody Hubbard's son is shaping up to be a squib, Lionel Harker was caught snogging with a half-blood behind Madam Puddifoot's, Lisa Runner and Ada Lacey aren't speaking to each other because  _Lisa_ took  _Ada's_ boots to wear for a date and _ruined_ them...gossip wasn't superfluous, it  _mattered._

She bet Severus would understand. Too bad the poor boy wasn't old enough for Hogwarts.

"So...Narcissa we heard that you and  _Lucius Malfoy_ were holding hands on the train..." Ella Higgs purred from where she was flopped out on her bed.

Blinking, the blond girl opens her mouth. There's no denying it, she decides; "Well, yes." she agrees.

Fine hair flowing into her face as she leans in, Emma Vanity smirks. "Oh? Did the two of you snog too?"

Narcissa coughs. "We didn't do  _that_..." she mutters, trying to hide her flushing skin with her hands fluttering around her face.

Her dormmates laugh and Narcissa finds them horribly uncouth in her embarrassment. "When did the two of you get together, if you don't mind me asking?" Ella asks.

Absently toying with her hair as she glances to the window, Narcissa exhales. "Oh, I guess we were talking some before summer and then...well, his father wasn't doing well and we were sending a lot of letters, it just...happened." She explains insufficiently.

Lydia Huntsman tuts. "It is so sad what happened to his father, don't you think?"

Feeling just a bit defensive, the girl declares; "Yes, but Lucius is very considerate when he tries and not to mention handsome..."

The others squeal and demand they tell them more about what it's like to have a boyfriend. A slow smirk spreading across her features, Narcissa plays up her card and with precise movements as she "gathers" her thoughts about what having a boyfriend is like. Oh this is going to be  _fun_.

* * *

Lucius scowls at Rabastan. Who is he to tell everyone that he and Narcissa are "dating"? Grinning smugly, the whip-thin boy leans in. "C'mon Lucius, what's so special about her?"

Biting back a snarl, Lucius throws himself back from the taller youth and begins to pace. "Just because you saw us together doesn't mean you get to tell everyone!" He snaps, "And unlike you, she's my girlfriend because she can keep a  _secret_ like a  _real_ Slytherin!"

The other Slytherin's face twists. "Watch it Malfoy!" He growls.

Scoffing, Lucius spins around and points his wand at the other earning a few hushed exclamations from the other third years. " _I_ should watch it?" He hisses.

Kenneth Wilkes steps in. "Stop it, just 'cause you're embarrassed doesn't mean you need to fight," he chides. Lucius slowly lowers his wand, Wilkes always did hate hasty actions, him stepping in doesn't feel like much of a surprise-then again, he enjoyed a good fight too...Wilkes's crooked teeth peak out as a small smirk passes his lips. "Great, now stop antagonizing each other and why don't one of ya help me with Transfiguration? You're both pretty good, yeah?"

" _I_ am," Rabastan replies; glancing furtively to Lucius seeking out his reaction.

"Oh, who took a week to turn a pin into a matchstick? Not  _me,_ " Lucius sneers bumping lightly into the thin boy's side.

Wilkes rolls his eyes. "Oh Merlin! I'm  _never_ going to be able to write my paper on why Polyjuice is  _not_ a Transfiguration at this rate!" He moans aggrieved.

"Oh stop being so dramatic," Lestrange snickers, giving the other boy a light punch to the shoulder.

"So Lucius-oh Wise One, do you have an answer for me?" Wilkens implores.

Tapping a hand against the pocket where his wand lays, Lucius hurries to Wilkens other side and answers, "I just might...if you have something in compensation for all of  _my_  hard work."

Reaching into his robe, the tall youth pulls out Quidditch Weakly. "You drive a hard bargain..."

Taking it almost happily (how long has it been since he read one of these?) Lucius smirks. "Only for the best, my friend." The boys laugh together and Lucius doesn't feel so uneasy about Hogwarts anymore. Maybe it won't be so hard to fit-in after all-but is that a good thing?

 


	33. I can't Lose

Horace watches his students with little of his usual enthusiasm, tallying the dead and the living as they pass his classroom's archway. The class is Slytherin and Ravenclaw second years, surprisingly or not, the Slytherin side of the room holds more graves than the Ravenclaws. Watching the youth titter and joke, the man has to swallow back a lump. How could so many of these rose-faced  _children_  grow up to be murderers, torturers, and fiends?  _How_?

Eyes darting between the dead and living, Horace recalls every time he failed one of his students; from not being in the classroom when he promised to be, for noticing things (bruises, tears, hopeless eyes) and ignoring them, letting the students who didn't have the promise he sought fall to the way-side, accepting the cruelty he saw in Hogwart's halls and rooms pass without interest-because, it's all  _normal_ behavior, isn't it? No, it hadn't been;  _isn't_! He won't let it go again, he can't...

Ripped from his mind by an almost exuberant snort, he sees pretty little Narcissa perched primly on a desk as Lydia Huntsman and Emma Vanity giggle on either side of her. He remembers her. He was there when she and her husband were executed; he saw her frail and dirty and without any of that superiority she has now. Her glacial eyes find his and the man pulls a large grin for her, a favorite, she had been; her lips quirk down. Odd. Some of that stupid grin letting up, he wonders what's gotten into the simpering girl; none of those batted lashes or honey-sweet smiles seem forthcoming.

Troubled, Horace decides this absence of show has gone on long enough. Adjusting his cap just-so, he jauntily raps his wand on his desk and draws the gaze of a class-full of eyes. Feeling a bit like himself, a bit more comfortable, he greets;

"Hullo children! I trust you all had a lovely summer and today I'd like to remind you about the rules of potions," gesturing for them to take their seats; he waves his hand at the board and begins to speak.

"First, always double-check your measurements-I can't tell you how many melted cauldrons and singed eyebrows I've had from not heading this direction. Next, keep an eye on your potion; if it doesn't look right, it's not right and start over. Third..." he prattles on like this for a little over quarter of an hour; eyes repeatedly coming to Narcissa M-Black. She doesn't pay much attention to him the first or second time he flicks his gaze her way; after the third, though, she's alert. Her eyes piercing and neck straight as a headache builds against his temple.

By the time the class period is over, Horace is just about ready to retreat to his office and sleep until the seventh year lesson he has today after lunch. Watching the students pack away their things and drift out of the room; the professor absently gather's the day's lesson plan together and takes a step towards his office when the tap of a boot catches his attention. Shifting his upper body, the throbbing ache comes back ten-fold at the sight of twelve-year-old Narcissa.

"Ah, Miss Black; what may I do for you?"

Those batted eyes are back. "It's nothing really, sir..." she trails off and with a perfectly timed glance away, she whispers "I just noticed you kept looking my way early and I...I wanted to know if I was doing something wrong?" She poses it as a question, however they both know it isn't. Narcissa and him both know she was perfectly well behaved (what else could be expected of Cygnus Black's daughter?).

He attempts to put a hand on her shoulder, to comfort maybe? He doesn't know, but the corner of her eyes crinkle and she sways just enough for his fingers to brush the velvet black of her robe. It's another strange thing on top of already unusual behavior, but for the moment; he ignores it. "It's nothing my dear, I suppose it was because of the rumors I heard...you and Lucius Malfoy are together? Aren't you a tad young miss Black?" He implores politely. She is, he thinks and he's nearly ninety percent sure it wasn't until she was a fourth year that she and Malfoy became a power couple of Slytherin. Though, its been a great many years since this girl's school-years and his teaching years he could easily be mistaken.

The girl's eyes shutter away to someplace else. "Maybe," she admits, "But he  _is_ so handsome and  _much_ more mature than the prats in second year..."

It sounds like puppy-love. Doubtful, Slughorn can almost recall a short period when Narcissa and Lucius dated before becoming a couple...maybe now was it? Yes, he thinks so. Putting on a smile, he says "Well, who am I to get in the way? Go on child, don't worry; I was just being nosy."

The girl smirks with little teeth and bobs her head. "Of course professor," she concurs and with a little curtsy is off with her satchel swinging from one side of her body to her other; it reminds him of something. It reminds him of her body hanging limp from a noose as the wind breezed through knocking it from side to side...A hand coming to cover his eyes and hide the image; Slughorn sits down at his desk neck slick with sweat.

* * *

Filius watches with keen interest as his seventh year class filters out and his third year flows in. Bellatrix Black, always an unpredictable one, pauses in the doorway; almost bumping into a very disgruntled looking Lucius Malfoy as he steps in. The boy's mouth opens for a moment, but the taller youth shoves something into his chest-a book it seems-barely waiting for him to wrap his arms around it before slipping out.

Taking it away from himself for a better look, a perplexed emotion flits across his face as he studies the cover and stuffs into into his satchel. Eyeing the teenager, no,  _child_  as he walks to a desk beside Wilkes; the diminutive professor feels no small sense of awe. The other day at the sorting feast, when he saw all these children and knowing what happens to each and everyone of them is rattling enough...but having to see certain ones up close? It was heart-wrenching. Lucius Malfoy is no exception, he'd been an exceptional student and Filius knew the youth's father from his own school days; an arrogant boy, but affable. The feeling of failure he always had when looking at the grown man did not lessen any in the presence of Lucius's now fresh face (and maybe future).

If anything, it made him more doubtful; what put him, all of the Death-Eaters, into Voldemort's hands? He has no answer, but, he's decided he'll be paying special attention to his own Death-Eater students (he should suggest Horace do the same).

As the last of the third years dragged themselves in, the small professor flicked his wand at the door and closed it. He doesn't know what today's lesson will be for them anymore, repeating the basic rules and curriculum for the year seems so pointless; he's done it all day. Watching all of these familiar faces stream in non-stop only made it more so. He knows who will do well, who will fail. Why bother? They know the rules, they know how he grades there efforts and work, what this year will consist of (older years are always good for passing things down); walking up to his desk, he pulls himself up to sit on the edge.

"Hello class," he greets with a smile; his eyes drifting between the silent Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. Flipping over his lesson-plan, he remarks, "I trust you all had a pleasant summer; why don't we go around and share a favorite moment of it?" He inquires. He knows every single face before him...yet, he  _doesn't._ Anything and everything he knows about them is on a superficial level; their hopes, aspirations, likes, dislikes, thoughts and so many other things are unknown to him. If he spent time investing himself in their lives, would they have known how much he cared? How much he wanted to see them grow up well, happy and successfully? He can't say, but he can try. He can see to that they know he's interested in them on a level past teaching them charms; maybe he can save a child while he's at it. Maybe he can give them someone they can turn to (other than Voldemort).

Gaze meander through all of the befuddled faces, his stare finally rests on Lucius Malfoy. Smiling encouragingly, he prompts; "What's your favorite thing that happened this summer?"

The poor boy, opens his mouth and closes it before murmuring "Professor...?"

"Well, Mr. Malfoy?" He insists.

Rabastan from Lucius's left side, elbows the other in the ribs. "It was snogging with Narcissa Black!" He crows.

The blond's face flairs red and he stomps his foot down on Rabastans and snaps, "Oh would you stop! I didn't  _snog_ her!" he snaps and then looking back to Filius, he says much quieter, "I saw a friend I haven't in a few years; that was the best part."

This statement draws a curious glance from his yearmates and the small man is still trying to reconcile the news that Lucius and Narcissa Black are together; arn't they a bit young...? He's sure they hadn't been a couple for at least another year; he can almost remember an incident that Minvera told him about...they'd been arguing. Something about life choices. He wonders which ones now.

Smiling forcefully, Filius nods. "Excellent! What about you Mr. Wilkes?" The boy's mouth opens showing a row of crooked teeth as he gapes.

"I-me?" he mumbles.

"Of course, I said we'd go around and ask everyone;" Filius feels the need to remind him.

The boy ducks his head. "I-I guess when father was away, mother took me to visit family I hadn't met before..." Ah yes, the  _squib_ sister...Filius had heard rumors about her as a youth, it was said that Kenneth's mother helped her escape to the muggle world when her family made plans to lock her away in St. Mungo's upon her eleventh birthday.

This predictably garners a number of whispers, but so perfectly, a Hufflepuff raises their hand. "Sir! May I share?" Looking he see's it's Edgar Bones. He'd been a good man, it always brings tears to his eyes when he thinks of what happened to him, his wife and children and eldest sister.

Tilting his head in agreement, he replies "What is it that you'd like to share?"

A grin spreads widely across Edgar's face, causing dimples to form. "My father! My father took us to the ministry-to work with him an' Amelia sneaked away while we were there and went to the Auror office where she convinced a couple of them to let her tag along on an assignment!" This causes a few children to gasp and Filius thought more deeply about Madam Bones, she'd never come off as such a bold student...he'd always believed her passion for justice came from her dead family. Maybe not. Obviously pleased by the reaction, Edgar Bones finishes; "When my father and I found her, he told her he was never bringing her back to the ministry again. One of the aurors said, though, 'You should bring her around more often! She has good sense  _and_ I bet she'll be a splendid auror in a few years.' She told us the whole story at dinner that night, Harold was really disappointed he wasn't there; my brother had been sick that day, you see."

After this tale, students from both sides of the room clamber to get in their own magnificent stories and the small professor has to rap his wand so he can start an orderly sharing; by the end of class, he thinks the students are better for it and he's made a step in the right direction to getting to actually know his students.


	34. Take a Step in the Right (or is it Wrong?) Direction

Bellatrix doesn't really remember if she enjoyed school or not, she vaguely recalls it being a bore and wishing that she could hex more than a third of her classmates into the next life (well, if this was it, maybe not anymore). Glinda's arm linked with hers as they prance down the hall to the library to "study". Glinda's prattling about her new Camelot earings her father bought her for her seventh year and about the presents suitors have been sending her all summer (her beauty well known, some think she even has a bit of Veela in her), however Bellatrix could care less. She loves a good pair of earings or boots just as much as the next girl...yet she seriously questioning why she ever made friends with Gilnda during her school years.

Glancing at her as Bellatrix bobs her head, the teenager supposes it's because the rest of her roommates lack the cunning of Glinda. Where they are completely happy working from the background, letting the men run the show...she and Glinda never have. After all, who was Voldemort's most loyal servant? Her. Who killed all her husbands without ever leaving more than suspicion behind? Glinda. A well-sharpened nail digs into her cheek.

"Hey, are you listening? Ross Meier gave me  _rubies!_ " She hisses, nose crinkled.

Bellatrix gasps with a small grin. "What? No!"

The girl sniffs, tossing her dark curls back. "He did! Can you believe that? You'd think he'd give me emeralds...at least then I'd be able to wear them in school without getting heckled."

Bellatrix does understand this and can bemoan the loss along with the girl. "True, but he went to Durmstrang? He doesn't get house colors..."

Glinda sighs, putting a delicate hand on her cheek. "Such a shame," she murmurs; eyes hungrily glancing about the room's male populous as they take a table towards the back of the library.

"Fuck off," Bellatrix says with little thought, as she pushes the shoulder of a second year Ravenclaw at the table she and Glinda want. The girl huffs, but with a well-placed foot, she trips as she gets together her stuff and shrinks in on herself due to the fact. Soon, she's gone leaving the table to the two seventh years. Sitting down, they take out their books and spread them all over the table discouraging anyone else from sitting down.

"So..." The other teenager begins, smirking at Bellatrix "You and Lestrange were getting along  _wonderfully_ last night, what did he do to woo you?"

Bellatrix feels like scoffing, Lestrange hasn't done a thing. "Nothing," she admits, trying to convey defensiveness with the clipped end. She doesn't care for the questions, Glinda's not who you give your secrets to (she's the one who tears them to pieces).

The teenager's lip pouts expertly and she bats her eyes as if it will work on her; Bella, unfortunately, is not one of those boys who wants to take off her knickers. "Aw, aren't we  _friends_?" She whines, fingers flitting out to grasp hers.

Slipping her hands beneath the table brunette frowns. "He did nothing, it was all me," she growls "I stopped being a child and realized it's better to get along with your future-husband than to fight him."

Glinda gapes. "Oh-oh, you're serious!" She awes, "You're just going to give in? Not play with your options?"

Bellatrix shakes her head. "What options Glinda? If you haven't noticed, you've stolen not only mine, but a few other's as well."

The teenager bites her ruby-painted lips. "I...really?" This seems to actually upset Glinda, "I'm just playing with them, I'm not serious with anyone; I don't even know if I really like any of them..." She admits.

Curious, Bellatrix props the side of her face on her curled hand. "Oh? Then who do you like?" She asks with great interest, obviously she's pierced some soft spot; how soft though?

In an brief moment of defenselessness, those olive eyes with dark curls dipping into them flash with guilt. "You," she breathes.

Bellatrix gets up.

* * *

Andromeda's more than relieved when she finds a second to slip away. She said she was going to send a letter home to her mother (as if), no one wanted to come with her to the Owlery. No matter how relieved she feels, she knows she's going to have to be careful how often she plays that card; a letter once a week, possibly twice, won't raise flags-any more though? her yearmates will definitely know something is up.

Flitting down the halls with her hands in the pockets of her robe, she hardly pays any attention to the world outsider herself until-

"Eep!" She yips, tumbling back from the chest she fell into.

"I got ya," a familiar voice mutters. Lifting her gaze, Andromeda has to clench her hands in her robe to keep from touching Edward's face.

"Oh..." she whispers.

Letting her go, the young man smiles. "Are you alright, Andromeda?"

Floundering as heat rises to her cheeks, Andromeda smiles back. "I think so," she whispers. He rubs at the back of his head, his face pensive as he stares down at her in awkward silence. "Umm..." she mumbles, hands hovering around her face (to hide it? to shield herself?)

"I-" he averts his eyes. "You wrote me a letter over the summer...a Ny-Nym-Nim-"

"Nymphodora," the Slytherin replies steadily. "It doesn't matter, I just wanted to talk to you..." she admits.

The boy looks to his glaringly yellow tie to her green sweater. " _Me_?" he repeats with disbelief.

Determined, Andromeda boldly takes his hand. "I'm going to the Owlery, come with won't you?" She inquires, but they both know he has little say. Together, the pair walk side by side, eyes darting with equal fear as they watch for other students. If they are seen together, it will end badly for both of them. Much faster than Andromeda expected, they are at the owlery and she's whistling for her and her sisters' owl Taffeta.

Gingerly leaning against a tower of wooden crates, Ted starts; "So-" the tall structure wavers and tips; the booming sound of wood snapping filling the room and sending the owls into a tizzy.

The brunette puts a hand to her mouth. "Oh Ted..."

Red-faced, the boy shrugs as feathers land like snow on his black robe. "Oops?" He mumbles.

A small smile tugging at her lips, Andromeda feels her own face heat up as she giggles, "Oops is right;" she manages to get out between her chortles.

The Hufflepuff chuckles himself and looks away. Feathers are floating around them. Andromeda feels her heart pulse more strongly than it has in months. His name cycles through her mind, a feeling of elation following each sounding;  _Ted_...Her feet, as if moving to the will of someone else, take her to the teenager's young, strong-jawed face. She stares up at him as he stares down at her. Andromeda lifts her body up on the ends of her toes and kisses him. His lips taste like that muggle balm he was always fond of mixed with the apple-butter he likes on his toast; it makes her want to cry.

The girl pulls away then, she's already kissed him too long, they don't know each other well enough for what she's just done. Searching his face with hope beyond reason, her breath stops at what she sees. His eyes are unreadable as he turns abruptly, hurrying from the owlery. In the midst of feathers, owl hoots, calls and shrieks; Andromeda  _feels_ her heart crumple and cannot stop the sob that tears from her throat. Her heart hurts too much to even try.


	35. All up Hill from Here

Watching her friend grumble while he categorizes his folders and notebooks together by color as he puts them in his new backpack, Lily can only think that he's become more neurotic with age. Coughing a little, she flops to the end of the bed pulling her sheets with her as she does so.

"D'you really think they're going to stay that neat all year?" She questions idly.

Dark eyes under newly trimmed bangs, glare at her. "They will if I can help it," he says seriously.

"You're in, like, fourth grade Sev; they practice spelling, their times tables and make macaroni art; don't get so wound up." She tells him with a little smirk.

The boy scoffs. "I'd actually like to give my teachers a good impression this time around, just coming from Spinner's End made me a delinquent the last time."

Lily frowns sadly, swiping a hand under her trickling nose. "They shouldn't have judge you like that, you were only little;" she mumbles.

Severus zips up it his bag and swings it over his shoulder. Staring down the girl, he snaps, "Maybe you should take your own advice sometimes!" And walks out of the room, not even stopping to tie his undone shoe-laces.

Taken back, Lily lays there. It's unlike Sev to be so short with her...but, is he wrong? He's so careful with her these days, like he's afraid she'll throw him out of her life all over again (she can't, he _lives_ with her; like 'tuney). Puckering her lips, she crawls back under her toasty sheets and coughs once more. Fevered, she struggles not to fall asleep as she strains her ears for her mother just down the steps.

"Do you have your lunch money, Pet? And you Severus, tie that shoe! We don't need you tripping and chipping a tooth on your first day!" Lily smiles as she listens to her mother, trust that she'd be there to fuss over them.

"Mu-um! Stop trying to wipe my lipstick off!" She can hear 'tuney whining from down the stairs; it makes Lily roll her eyes. Twelve-year-olds do  _not_ need to wear lipstick...but, try telling that to one.

"I'm sorry love, but don't you think you put it on a bit thick?" Mum replies.

"No!" Her sister snaps back.

"Can we go? I don't want to be late.." Lily hears Severus grunt.

"Yes, go you two! We can't have you giving your teachers a bad impression!" Mother agrees and the girl can hear the front door opening and the clomping of feet, before it closes with a finality.

Sighing, Lily looks longing to the backyard; it would have been a nice walk to school...the sun's out and she can hear birds twittering in the tree below. Squirming under her sheets, Lily plans to sleep a little longer when she catches the patter of feet on the stairs. Whipping her head to the open door, she see's mother still wearing her robe smiling at her. "How are you feeling Lily?"

Rubbing a hand under her nose, the redhead croaks; "Okay, I guess."

Mother comes in and brushes a cool hand over her cheeks. "You don't feel too hot, would you like me to get you a cup of tea? Some toast?" She inquires.

The girl shakes her head, "I'm good." She says, "I think I want to sleep a little longer..."

Mother nods and pets her hair. "I'll check-in in an hour then," she tells her.

"Okay," Lily agrees and with bleary eyes watches her mother drift from the room. A few minutes later as she tries to settle her mind, she attempts to think of the last time she was sick...it had to be about the time Harry was two months old. She'd had a bad cough, James had fussed for days; saying she should rest and he could handle the baby for a few days...

Lily smiles a little, James, of course,  _couldn't_ handle the baby for a few days; by mid-afternoon of the first day, he appeared in their bedroom holding the baby with a near devastated face.

_"He won't stop crying!"_

_"Just give him to me, he'll be fine-promise."_

_"If you're sure..."_

_"James."_

_"Okay, okay! Here!"_

_"See, look at that, he just wanted his mummy! Didn't you my lovely baby boy?"_

_"I wish he wanted me.."_

_"Don't be petulant, love. He's the baby."_

The smile fades from Lily's face. She misses James.

* * *

Severus and Petunia walk together until they are out of sight of the house before the girl dares to bound ahead. "Don't think I'll walk home with you either!" She calls back, her skirt swinging behind her as she plows towards the junior high up the road.

Scowling down at his feet, Severus grumbles "Like I'd want to." He walks a few more feet before he hears the distinctive sound of galloping feet. Turning his head back, he see Dirk Cresswell catching up to him. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Severus shifts his gaze straight-ahead.

"Hi!" Dirk greets.

"Good morning," Severus mutters; tense.

"Where's, um, your sister?" He questions.

The black-haired youth scowls. "She's not my sister and she's sick," he replies.

"Oh," the fair-haired boy mumbles. "Who's your teacher?

"Rothschild," Severus answers.

"I have her too! The older kids say she's pretty neat, has us make miniature volcanoes and stuff." He imparts to him hopefully, watching the other boy for a positive reaction.

Severus, though, only grunts and moves to kick a stick in front of him when it begins to wiggle. Freezing, his eyes train to it as his heart pelts at his rib-cage like a stone.

"Hey, hey are you okay?" Dirk questions, looking at him worriedly for a moment. Quickly, though, he sees where Severus's eyes are looking to and reaches down, scooping up the little snake. "Don't like 'em, huh?" He mutters, walking over to the yard where he lets it down gently.

He comes back brushing his hands off on his trousers, "He's gone now." Letting out an embarrassingly squeaky breath, the boy can't stop the way his hands tremble or the phantom pains of his neck. Dirk, in all his youthful empathy attempts to pat his back; Severus, stumbles forward with a violent flinch.

"Don't touch me!" He barks at the other boy.

The fair-haired youth throws up his hands, "Okay!"

Breathing hard, the dark-eyed child realizes how rude he's being (especially to someone who just helped him) "I apologize," he mutters, "Thank you for-that."

Dirk smiles hesitantly. "Oh, it's not a problem! I like snakes, there kind of neat..."

"I  _hate_ them!" Severus vehemently hisses.

His tone surprises his neighbor. "Why?"

The other opens his mouth, ready to spew his hatred of Nagini-the beast that killed him, but instead he begins to tremble. He can  _see_ Nagini coming at him, feel her body shake the ground, hear the slick sound of her body slither towards him and with a choked cry, recoils. His hands come to grip his throat. Severus's death plays in his head...but, something, something outside himself is drawing him from the murky depths of his memory. Gasping as he cracks open his eyes, he sees Dirk Cresswell patting his back, crouched beside him.

"S-Sorry," Severus stammers.

Dirk retracts his hand and smiles in a sad sort of way, "s'okay, grandpa gets like that sometimes too...did you get bit by a snake?"

Severus can only nod, "A b-big one.."

"Ah, how old were you?" The fair-haired child implores.

"Thir-Three.." Severus corrects himself, if he said his true age...that would bring not only disbelief, but suspicion.

The boy's eyes go wide. "Oh wow! That's really little," he mumbles sympathetically.

Relaxing just a little, the black-haired youth bobs his head in agreement. "I guess so."

"Do you, do you want to go home? Grandpa likes to go to his room when he has his fits," The boy asks gently.

Stubborn, Severus shakes his head. "No, I promised Lily I'd fill her in on the first day."

Dirk laughs. "Then we better get going! School starts in..." he glances to the watch on his wrist, "Ten minutes!" Pulling Severus up by his elbow, the fair-haired boy cries "I'll race you!"

In the spirit of youth and due to the need to prove he  _isn't_ weak; Severus yells "Then come on!" Already half a foot ahead.

Dirk's shrill, boyish laughter fills the air as they run all the way to the schoolyard.


	36. Us

They prove to be quite the trio. Maybe it has to do with the fact they sit all nice in a row; one right after another, in class or maybe it has to do with the fact that Dirk makes a point of following her and Severus to the swings each day after lunch and she can't stand to see him leaning against the bar as they twist and scuff their feet and talk about boring things, so she made a rotation where they switch every five minutes and take turns pushing one another (a childish suggestion of Dirk's), though, she more likely guesses it has to do with the air that hangs about them.

It's an exclusive air between her and Severus; that boy does not suffer fools and to him, all children are such and Lily, well, she hadn't many muggle friends the first time around anyway. Petunia had been the popular one; she just the tag along until that one day with Sev and then  _Lily_ had a friend all her own, a friend like  _her_. Against all odds, Dirk, though, fought against their self-imposed isolation. It had been a bit of a surprise and now nearly a month and a half into school, Lily finds she doesn't mind having Dirk around.

"Are ya going to go to the Halloween party?" Dirk asks out of the blue as he pushes Lily on the swing.

Severus, from where he plucks the petals off a late blooming flower, frowns at Dirk. "That isn't for almost a week and half," he remarks.

The fair-haired boy shrugs and smiles. "Well, sometimes, people like to dress up and stuff. I thought...maybe we could all dress up as somethin' that goes together! Like we could dress like people from the King Arthur legends!"

Lily glances to Sev, wanting to know what he thinks of this idea. His face is mostly blank except for the quirk down of his lips. "Will your parents expect us to go if they catch wind?" He inquires.

Lily smothers a smile and answers back with a bored drawl. "They're goin' to wonder why  _I_ didn't beg them to go if they find out."

Severus grunts. "Fine," he agrees, "I wish to be Mordred."

"Not Merlin?" Lily teases.

The boy scoffs. "I know your parents, they'd want pictures.  _I_ certainly don't want that blackmail in hanging around."

Lily giggles, and turns her head back to smile at Dirk. "Who do you want to be Dirk?" She asks.

The boy's eyes light up. "King Arthur!" He declares and Severus snorts, grumbling something likely rude about Gryffindors.

Shushing her old friend, Lily hums. "Then...maybe I can be queen Guinevere?" Batting her lashes at Dirk, she says, "What do you think of that, Dirk? Will you take me to be your wife?"

The boy laughs and takes her hand, getting down on a knee. "Of course m'lady!"

From where he sits, Severus's eyes turn piercing. "Maybe I should be Sir Lancelot instead," he mutters.

Lily swings over and thwacks his arm. "Oh Sev! He's just a boy," she smirks.

"He's the same age as me, Lily," Dirk reminds her puzzled.

"Oh I know," Lily concurs, winking at Severus. "That's why he has no reason to be jealous."

Frowning, the boy before her cocks his head. "Of what?"

"That's the bell," Severus cuts in quickly, standing up and offering them both a hand.

Sharing a lighting-fast look, Lily and Dirk pull on Severus at the same time; causing him to tumble on top of them. They laugh as Severus mutters under his breath; seeing the crease of his brow, Lily smooths her hand over it. "We're just teasing you Severus," she explains him. "Now, help me up!"

* * *

Unlike usual, instead of waving goodbye to Dirk upon reaching their home; Lily suggests "Why don't you come in Dirk? We can look at a couple of King Arthur books my dad has! Some have pictures."

Severus sends her an irritated glance before yanking open the front door and stomping in. Rolling her eyes, Lily makes a funny face at Severus's back and declares to her worried friend "Oh he's just being grumpy, don't worry about it."

Some of the unease dissipates from the fair-haired boy's face, but he shuffles in his spot. "Let me ask my mum..."

Plonking herself down on the step, Lily nods. "I'll wait here."

This seems to surprise Dirk, "Okay, yeah," he agrees, shucking off his backpack. "Just a minute." He turns and then run across the street, not even pausing to look both ways before he does so. A couple of minutes later, he comes out of the house holding the hand of a small woman. Together, the pair cross the street (looking both ways before doing so) and come over to her.

"Hello, I'm Dirk's mother," the woman offers, fingers tapping nervously against her son's hand.

Lily scrambles up and offers a hand. "Hi!" She greets, "It's nice to meet you." And then with the widest eyes she can manage, Lily asks with a sweet smile, "Can Dirk stay 'til dinner? Please?"

The woman brings a finger to pink painted lips. "You're mother...is she alright with that?"

Lily shrugs. "She doesn't mind when my sister brings home a bunch of friends," she tells the woman.

Some of the jitters seem to lessen and the tightness around her eyes lessens. "Well, I guess I can't argue with that," she sighs. Bending down and clutching her boy's face between her hands, she half-pleads, half-orders "Be  _good,_ Dirk."

A brilliant smile lights up the child's face. "Of course mum!" he agrees, kissing her cheek.

With one last strained smile, Mrs. Cresswell gets up and walks back across the street, waving at them before going into her home. After a beat, Lily remarks, "You'd think you haven't ever been invited to anybody's house before."

Dirk's face blooms red. "Erm," he mumbles, "That' pretty close to being true..."

Astonished, Lily gapes. "What? Why!"

Staring down at his untied shoes, the boy glumly declares; "It's 'cause I'm  _weird_."

Anger surging through Lily, she stamps her foot. "You aren't! You're a perfectly  _normal_ wi-" she bites her tongue.

"Wi?" The boy repeats tentatively.

"Let's go find Sev," the redhead cires, snagging the boy's hand. "He's probably sulking up in his room." Leading them through the living room, then dining room before finally stopping in the kitchen to snag an apple for herself, Severus and for Dirk; she finds a note.

"My mum's gone to the store, Petunia needed a new pair of tights I guess." She tells her friend. "This way then," and takes him up the back stares and to Severus's room.

Knocking on the closed door, the girl for a moment wishes that they still shared a room; then again, it would have gotten awkward in another year or so. A bit of shuffling from inside and the door opens.

A less than pleased look on his face, Severus demands. "What took you so long? I already got all your dad's books together," he explains.

Lily gapes. "Oh-oh, you did? Thanks Sev."

"Yeah, thanks Sev," Dirk smiles.

"Severus!" The dark-haired boy barks at the other, "Only Lily can call me that."

With big eyes, the fair-haired youth nods. "Right," he fervently nods.

The redhead can only shake her head. "Here's your apple, by the way," she says handing over the fruit.

"Thanks," and he bites into it. "Here, I laid them out on the rug;" he explains pointing to the green square in the middle of his room.

"Perfect!" Lily exclaims hurrying over. "Come here Dirk! They have lots of pictures of Arthur in this one..."

* * *

"We can use cardboard for the armor, I bet," Dirk remarks as he tugs on his backpack. "Want to come over to my house and draw up some plans tomorrow?" He inquires.

Severus opens his mouth, but Lily is faster and bobs her head. "Yes, let's do that."

"Bye then!" The fair-haired boy shouts as he walks out the door.

"Bye!"

Shutting the door, the girl turns to the boy. "We have to be nice, we'll be going to school with him in a few more years."

Severus crosses his arms. "What are we going to tell everyone when we have this first year trailing everywhere after us?" He demands.

Lily scowls back at him. "That he's our  _friend_!" She snaps, "I can't believe you! He has no one and you're just making it worse!"

Severus frowns at her. "What are you talking about Lily?"

"Dirk. He doesn't have friends," she mutters, "because he's a  _freak_!" Spitting out the word with a bitter twang.

Severus hesitates, but ends up putting a hand on her shoulder. "You aren't a freak," he calmly reminds her.

Taking a step away, the redhead rubs at her arms and looks out the window. "You're right," she mumbles, "But it doesn't make me forget what it  _felt_ like to-to-" she clamps her mouth shut.

"Being called a freak was the least of his problems in the end," Severus tries to console.

"That's what we  _both_ are, isn't it? In this world and that one...we're too different for either one." She mutters.

"You think you had it hard!" Severus hisses, grabbing her arm. "What? The seven years and then some I spent being judged and spat at for being nothing more than who I am? You, Cresswell- _both_ of you were happy at Hogwarts; had friends, people liked you, the teachers  _trusted_ you!"

Yanking away from him, Lily stares at Severus. "I'm sorry that happened Severus, truly...and I'm sorry I was too inexperienced to help you last time."

A distrustful flicker in his eye, Severus sneers. "Save it, we both know when we get to Hogwarts who you're going to run to," the girl tries to protest, but skinny child holds up a hand. "I  _know_ it's not me!" And he walks away, his bedroom door slamming somewhere upstairs.

From where she is, Lily feels that familiar turmoil resurface. Will she run to James? Or will she stick with Severus? Can't she have both of them? You can't,  _you can't,_ a frightening voice whispers to her and for all her fight, Lily is helpless in denying the truth that presents itself.


	37. Things Lost in the Night

The walk to Dirk's house includes a lot of information Severus is certain will end up being quite irrelevant.

"...and my grandpa, he might be in the kitchen when we get to my house. He likes to tell his war stories, so, if we want to ever get to actually makin' our costumes you can't say much more than you had a good day or he'll start talkin' and 'cause mum always says to be polite, you'll have to stay and listen." The fair-haired boy prattles and Severus, from where he walked behind Lily and Dirk; breaks in between them.

"Thank you for the advice, but I think we can handle it," Severus replies in a sardonic tone that Lily disproves of wholly if the downward quirk of lips is anything to go by.

"Oh! You're welcome," the other boy smiles, completely oblivious to Severus's sarcasm.

Severus rolls his eyes and Lily slaps his arm (he flinches). "Sorry, I didn't mean to hit so hard," Lily apologizes as soon as she sees him wince.

Swallowing, Severus stares straight ahead and nods. Face one of inquisitiveness, Dirk's gaze darts between them. "Severus said you aren't brother and sister, but you live together."

"That's true," Lily agrees.

"Why?" He questions.

Severus glares at Lily, this isn't any of the nosy-brat's business and it would do well for him to learn when he's gone a question too far now instead of later. The redhead, of course, just smiles sweetly at him and opens her mouth. "Sev's mum passed away and 'cause we were already friends, my parents said he could come live with us."

"What about his dad? Is he dead too?"

"That's enough!" Severus snaps. "That's not your business and you, Lily! You're encouraging him!"

Dirk shrinks back and Lily shakes her head. "Really, Sev, sharing a little doesn't hurt anyone," she tells him.

"Sharing a 'little' is what got us in this mess!" He counters, only him truly understanding how far a word too many can go.

Lily sends him a dubious look and flicks her stare forward. "Well, look at that, we're at Dirk's house!" A grin very much fake on her lips.

The boy who had fallen silent, perks up a little. "Yeah, come on," he says, "if we hurry, we can finish our snack before grandpa wakes up from his afternoon nap!"

The girl and boy trail after their third compatriot as he opens the door, leading them from the mudroom to the kitchen to the right of it. Coming into the kitchen, the boy and girl drop their bags as Dirk did and look to the table to see a care-worn face smiling at them.

"Hello! Are you Dirk's new friends?" He inquires.

Severus frowns, but Lily, ever pleasant, nods. "Yes, we are," she confirms in a chipper tone.

The man nods, reaching for his tea. "That's good," he murmurs, "One can't ever have too many friends."

Dirk from where he stands between the table and them, looks between them with forlorn eyes. Obviously, he doesn't think they'll get to their project today (it's not like he really minds, he doesn't want to go to some infantile party anyway). The woman from the other day steps into the kitchen, a clothes basket on her hip.

"Hello children," she smiles, "take a seat, I'll get tea for you."

"Don't worry about it Maureen," Dirk's grandfather says, waving the woman on. "It's the pudding in the fridge right?"

She hesitates, the crinkles from yesterday reappearing on her face. "If you're sure dad..." she mumbles.

The man chuckles and jerks himself up from his spot. "I think I can handle it sweetheart," he smirks.

The woman bites her lip, after a beat she nods and carries on with her previous activity; leaving the young trio with the stooped man. A minute later, he brings out three cups of pudding and a juggles a quart of milk in the crook of his arms. Putting it on the table, he gestures for them to sit down. With one last glance at Lily, Severus does so.

The old man shuffles around some more and brings out glasses for them, pouring milk into them he hands them out with a smile. "Can never have too much calcium, it's good for you young'uns," he comments.

Sipping at the milk, Severus drags his gaze to his pudding. Chocolate. He hates chocolate...oh well, picking up his spoon he readies to take a bite when his bowl is taken and a new one is put before him.

"I know you don't like chocolate," Lily smiles.

Severus feels a little less irritated with his friend. "Thanks," he mutters, staring thoughtfully at the vanilla.

"So, how was your day?" The old man implores, creaking as he collapses back in his chair.

"Fine!" Dirk pipes up, nearly vacuuming up his pudding.

Chortling, the lined face turns to Severus and Lily. "I hear your making costumes?"

Putting aside her spoon, the girl nods. "Yes-" finishing off her milk, she tells him. "We are going as Queen Guinevere," pointing at herself; then to Dirk, "King Arthur," and finally at Severus. "And Lancelot."

Dirk's grandfather nods. "I used to like those tales-thought knights were a lot like soldiers, I did..."

Feeling just spiteful enough, Severus decides to bring up the "forbidden" topic. "You were a soldier, weren't you?"

The man's dull eyes glisten. "That I was," he agrees, "most frightening adventure I ever went on." The fair-haired boy moans around his spoon and Severus nearly grins at him-but Lily kicks him under the shin and he quickly shifts his features to embarrassment. He gives Dirk his most guilty look and the other returns it with a half-hearted smile, good, that should appease not only Lily but the boy too.

The old man scratches at his beard. "I was there when they liberated the Jews, you know, I'd never seen someone so skinny-they were walking skeletons."

A vague memory of history lesson from his youth comes to Severus's mind. Jews...ah yes, the Germans had gone and rounded them up and killed them. Frowning, he thinks about the wars he was in; didn't...didn't the purebloods try to do the same?

"Grandpa," Dirk calls, "mum doesn't like it when you talk about that stuff to me."

The old man's eyes fade a little. "That's right, I forget sometimes." Running a hand up and down his cheek, the old man waves them off. "Go on, go play."

Dirk scrambles down from his seat, Lily and him right behind the boy. Walking up the stairs and to the fair-haired boy's room; Severus can't help but want to go back. As a fellow veteran how he lives with what he saw, with what he did. Most of all, though, he wants to ask how the Germans and the Jews learned to live together again.

In the confines of Dirk's little boy room, Severus's efforts are half-hearted and he can't find it in himself to behave as a nine-year-old preparing for Halloween should (it's too much work).

* * *

Hours later, completely hidden underneath his covers; Severus shivers. He can't get warm. Crossing his feet and tucking his hands under his armpits, Severus squeezes his eyes shut and tries to clear his mind.

"Severus?" A voice from above whispers.

Jolting up from beneath his sheets, Severus finds a pair of green staring helplessly at him. Sighing, he pushes his hair away from his face and asks. "What do you want Lily?"

The girl tugs at her pajama shirt. "I'm sorry if I've upset you these past few days."

Sitting criss-cross, the boy shakes his head. "I've been pretty waspish too," he adds.

"We didn't used to fight so much," Lily says in a tiny voice.

Severus rubs at his eyes. "We didn't used to spend nearly all our time together either...I don't-is this worse than fifth year? I can't remember."

The redhead frowns in the shadows. "In fifth year, I think any time we spent together we were fighting;" she admits.

"Oh, I really only remember the incident...but, I was older when I died."

"Then what do you remember about fifth year?" Lily inquires.

"Potter. Black. The werewolf and our-fight." He answers.

"Nothing good?" Lily begs, child-hands coming to rest on his knee in her desperation.

"I-that might have been the year I got new books instead of my mother's old ones? I think that was good."

"That was fourth year, I went with you to by them;" Lily sniffles.

Severus reaches out and touches her cheek. It's wet. "Oh don't tell me you're crying-look, that's the year Lucius invited me to his 'Christmas Party', alright? I enjoyed that."

"It wasn't a party."

The boy has to look away, "No," he concurs, "it wasn't...but I thought I was getting ahead in the world and it was the best feeling I had all year, okay? Lily...you aren't mad at  _me_ now, are you?"

She wraps her arms around his neck. "No," she mumbles. "I don't think I can be. You were just a boy and I-" she whimpers. "I'm sorry."

"Look Lily, I haven't told you everything-I did a lot of bad,  _terrible,_ things-like those German soldiers Dirk's grandfather fought. If you knew the half of it, you would hate me."

Lily tugs him down and pulls the blankets around them. "I  _won't_ hate you," she declares. "And I  _won't_ make you tell me now." Curling up against him, she murmurs, "can't we just agree that we're both sorry for how we've been treating each other?"

Yawning, Severus fights the pleasant warmth the girl radiates and struggles to keep his eyes open. "I  _should_ tell you though...it's my fault that you're...here...after al..." the rest of his sentence lost to slumber.

He though, was not the first to slip into sleep and his proclamation went unheard to the girl sleeping on his shoulder.


	38. On my Knees (Lookin' for a Sign)

"Mum?" Remus says, popping up at her side.

"Remus Lupin!" The woman yelps, swinging around; hands behind her back.

"Are you wrapping dad's present? Is that why you won't let me see?" Remus inquires as he gets up on his tip-toes to try and peer at the half-wrapped package.

His mother swats him back. "Yes! Now go play, I don't want you telling your father."

Remus pouts. "I can keep a secret," he whines.

His mother's eyes become pinched even as her lips quirk in their familiar pattern. "Of course you can love...but your father has no sense of adventure! He'll pay you to tell him-like last year, and the year before that..." Cocking her head, she says "I bet he sent you in here!"

Remus scoffs. "'course he didn't!" He declares, "I wanted to know when dinner was going to be ready..." He was lying, though, just a little; sure dad gave him all his pocket change to see if he couldn't get a peak...but he had been looking for her to begin with because he was hungry.

Her lips twist in something akin to a smile. "Since it's hardly past five, you'll have to wait a while longer. Now scoot!" She demands, nudging him towards the door with her hip.

"Okay!" He sighs, trotting from the room.

His dad looks up from his paper as he walks in. "So?" He implores.

"It's not so big that it peaks out from around her back, but she can't hide it just between her hands."

"A book, you think?"

The boy nods. "I bet my allowance it is," he agrees. And his memories. Dad got a lot of books from his mum when he was a kid.

"What about dinner?" His father asks, as Remus heads for the front door.

He pauses. "Oh, about an hour I think;" and he's off.

* * *

Coming to the spot in the field where a few half-dead trees stand crooked, Remus peers into the branches spying for Biddy or his family's owl. It's Wednesday and he's expecting their ritual letter-it's what keeps his sane-a hoot sounds from above. Tossing back his head, he sees their barn owl. She has an envelope with the Potter crest on it. Holding out his hands, he chuckles when the bird drops it from the height; a bit of wind whistles through making Remus jump to the side to catch the tumbling letter with grasping fingers.

With ease born from practice, his fingers clamp down on the letter before it can fumble from his hand. "Thanks!" He calls to the bird who shrieks before nestling down in her chosen tree. Shaking his head with mirth, Remus turns his attention to the letter.

_Dear Moony,_

_Hey! How's it going on your front? I'm doing alright, everything's just as it was last week. Though, I'm getting more irked by lessons as I go on. I can't tell you how much I hate having to spend hours at a time listening to the tutor drone on and on about stuff I know, but am not supposed to know! I think that has to be the most annoying part so far, having to pretend to be stupid and not know what they're teaching you!_

_You're dad's birthday's this week right? You wrote about it last week, I know you can't say I told him happy birthday...but make sure you wish him well with me in mind, won't you? And make sure to make him the best card ever! Use all of the colors from your crayon box! Be original!_

_Oh, I got the letter from Lily from the guys at Hogwarts. They're all Slytherin, you know, but they've been watching people as best they can. I guess Narcissa and Lucius don't feel Slughorn's as jolly as they remember-'specially with them. I think they're trying to figure him out before they go after him...and get a load of this! You know Glinda Zabini? Oh course you do! Everyone does...she might be a lesbian! Andromeda mentioned Bellatrix avoiding her because she admitted to like-liking her. I don't know what it all means, but it sounds like the best thing ever compared to home! I miss Hogwarts a lot these days...don't you? Well, I included the letter from them, if you want to read it all for yourself._

_As for Lily...she won't say much at all about anything. She doesn't want to talk about us, Harry or about Snape. I think the most I've gotten from her is she has a neighbor who's a wizard (Dirk Cresswell, do you remember him?) and that she's going to her school's Halloween party. I wish we could have a party, you, me and Sirius! That would be wicked, don't you think?_

_Until we meet again,_

_Prongs_

Remus fingers the letter a moment longer, attempting to soak in all that is James. After years and years of missing James, here he was; writing letters back and forth on a weekly basis-even more than they had when he'd been away in hiding. How he'd missed his friends...things would only get better once they could safely devise a schedule for writing Sirius. The occasional letter they had gotten from him through the Hogwarts group had told them of how his parents were turning over a new leaf and trying to be "good" parents by actually involving themselves in their children's day to day lives. What it all meant, though, was that he had far too much supervision and if he were to get a letter from an unfamiliar owl...well, it wouldn't end well.

Pulling the letter away to skim the Hogwarts one, he considers the implications of a Professor remembering-one like Slughorn in particular. The rotund man had never been an exceptional teacher-he was vapid, enjoyed his creature comforts and cared more about social ladders than students themselves. He hadn't been worthy of the Slug Club as a child, but Lily and James had been in it. Both complained and complimented it at the same time, it was a fun way to spend a Friday or Saturday night, but it was an irritation to keep Slughorn impressed enough to keep inviting them.

Frowning, The boy sits down in the grass and tries to figure out the pattern to who and why a person has their memories...so far, he thinks they all regret something. Something  _really_ big. What could Slughorn possibly regret? He always seemed so comfortable with himself and his choices...what could he possibly have done to have his memories? Gnawing on his fist, Remus frowns. This is hard. Why's it so chaotic? There doesn't seem to be any reason behind anything...and there have been no clues or signs since they woke up here.

Scrubbing at his eyes, Remus mutters; "I wish I knew what I did wrong to end up here...if I can't be with you Dora and if I can't be with Teddy, then who am I supposed to be with?" Looking pleadingly to the tree tops where his family's owl stares down with unusually solemn eyes, he begs "Please, give me something!"

the wind picks up, surprised, Remus doesn't have time to grasp the letters adequately before they fly from his hands. Chasing after them, he manages to snag James's letter as it gets caught in a thicket of haphazard browning brambles. He has to sprint after the letter from Hogwarts, it's getting away far too quickly and as he sees it lift up high in a particularly hard gust; Remus fears he has lost it. Coming out farther in the field than he has in since they moved in to their newest home, he watches as the letter descends in to the muddy hole that he'd once deigned to call a pond.

"No!" He cries, leaping after it. It falls in. Yanking it out, he's crushed to see it splattered and soaked with mud and water; he can hardly decipher a thing...moving his thumb in and attempt to clean off the dirt, his eyes fall on what must be the only untouched word of the whole letter.

Andromeda.

Standing up, Remus gazes at the name. His mouth parting, he makes a half-happy, half-fearful sound as he hastily folds the letter and pushes it into his pocket along with the one from James. He knows what he has to do.


	39. It's Now

Plates with the remnants of frosting and cake lay on the coffee table with crumpled napkins, forks and quarter-full bottle of champagne. Comfortably warm tucked up against one end of the couch, Remus rubs his face against the scratchy arm of the sofa and blinks slowly. His parents sway together-chin on shoulder and glasses of champagne cradled in their hands-to the almost unpleasing whines of the vocalist as he sings;

_I want you,_

_I want you so bad;_

_I want you._

_I want you so bad,_

_It's driving me mad;_

_It's driving me mad._

Stifling a yawn, the fair-haired boys finds the waxing gibbous glowing easily through the gauzy curtains in the yellow light of his family's living room. His heart spikes just a little as the wolf inside stirs at the recognition of what's to come; but he manages it as he tears his stare away and focuses it on his parents. His mother tips her glass on her lips; letting the pretty liquid slip down her throat as his father smiles with feverish eyes watching her slim throat. The man leads them to the cabinet's open door where they put aside their glasses and swing back to the middle of the room as the song flows on.

Rubbing tiredly at his eyes, Remus sees his father's hands slip too low for it to be decent and his mother's lips press into his father's as her arms entwine around his neck; the music coming to it's final whispers...

_It's driving me mad,_

_She's so..._

The boy is lost to the oblivion of sleep.

* * *

Remus wakes up to the bustle sounding below him and the soft, detergent scented sheets around his cheeks. Sitting up, he struggles to recall what happened last night after the song ended; but nothing comes. Yawning, he gets out of bed to find someone pulled him out of his pants, but left him with the polo his mother convinced him to wear for dinner.

Rolling his eyes, the youth bets his father was the one to put him to bed (mother was much to proper to let him sleep in something so haphazard). Tugging off the shirt, he throws it aside and goes to his dresser. Rummaging through it, he pulls out an out fit and dresses before running down the stairs and to the kitchen.

Walking in, he finds his mother making omelettes in the frying pan and his father tapping his foot jauntily to the tune on the radio. Cocking his head, the boy tries to remember if it was like this the first time he was a boy.

He can remember days like these-few and far between as they had been-where mother made a special breakfast and father was all tapping fingers, jiggling feet and broken hums. But it was so close to his transformation...he can't remember there  _ever_ being such a good morning so close to the night of the wolf. Frowning, he wonders if this isn't  _new_ or if he's simply forgotten this day with time. He almost hopes it's the second because it being the first makes him itch. Changing this without even  _wanting_ to, what could it do? He doesn't know.

Finally looking to him, Remus's father waves him over with a grin.

"What are you standing there for son? Come on over!"

Startling just a little, the fair-haired boy listens and comes to his seat as his mother brings over an omelette. "For you!" She says with a wink as she puts the food on his father's plate.

"Excellent!" The man laughs, rubbing his hands together.

His mother smiles back and shifts her gaze to him. "What would you like Remy?"

"Oh, um, cheese and tomato?" The werewolf implores rattling a few things he likes off in hopes it will go decently with egg.

His mother wrinkles her nose and jabs playfully. "You have such strange tastes! Like your grandfather, I'd say."

Father's hand reaches over ruffling his fine hair. "Not that we mind, we love you-strange tastes and all."

"Thanks," Remus mutters leaning forward on his elbows as the woman goes back to cooking. Pointing to the paper, he asks, "Can I look dad?"

The man sends him a curious stare, but shrugs in the end. "Sure, but I'm reading the sports."

"That's fine," Remus happily replies finger reaching earnestly for the paper. Lyall hesitates for all of a moment before putting the paper in his grasp. Smiling at his father, the boy chirps "Thanks!" Before turning his attention to the inky gold between his fingers.

Father snorts, picking up his tea to sip at as Remus peruses the front page. Nothing terribly interesting-a win for Puddlemere United against the Caerphilly Catapults*, some chatter about the new head of the Auror office; Robards** having only recently come into the position, but what made his breath catch was a small, unassuming picture toward the bottom left-hand corner of the paper.

His eyes watching the shifting shapes-the blinking eyes of two still children and the quick movements of aurors that buzz about the children and charred remains of a home with a-a  _Dark Mark_ flickering above it. Reading the little annotation beneath the picture which tells him where the story lay, the youth flipped through the pages with a terror worthy of the traumatized children staring at the rubble they called their home.

Finding the column, he reads through it with fervor;

_Megan and Aaron McCall stand in front of what was once their family's home. The two had been lucky enough to be visiting grandparents when their family-their mother, Deanna McCall, father, Pryor McCall and younger brother, Herbert McCall-were attacked early yesterday evening. The Auror's office is unwilling to disclose the circumstances of the incident, but are willing to concede to it being yet another tragedy in a pattern of terror caused by the mysterious group named "Death-Eaters", who to all who study closely, find they target those who have any close relation to muggles._

_The McCall children were unwilling to give a statement and have since gone to stay with their grandparents._

Slumping back in his chair, Remus goes back to the front pages and gazes at the tragedy a little longer. The boy and girl look to be in shock-so far in disbelief that their mother and father and brother could have died so suddenly while they were  _away_ that they cannot react. Looking to the trio of Aurors he picks one out:

Augusta Longbottom.

He wonders if she responded to this case the first time.

Pushing paper away, his mother puts his breakfast on his plate.

"Eat up, love," she tells him.

"Thanks mum," Remus answers, poking at his meal. He's not really hungry anymore. Those children's faces have stolen away the emptiness and filled it with trepidation (he wonders if Teddy will look so forlorn once he's old enough to understand he and Dora will never be there for him). This maddening ache to see the trouble he had died to end only in its infancy is something indescribably painful to bare. But, he will.

He will do it because this time, his son will be born to a world of peace where his mother and father will be there for him from his first breath and well into his twilight when he is more than old enough to see his parents' deaths as part of the cycle of life and death and not as a man who cruelly snuffs the light of life in its prime.


	40. There isn't Anything I wouldn't do for you

Halloween morning proves to be unbearably upsetting and confounding. Sitting at the kitchen table, the wolf pacing in the back of his mind and intercepting his hearing, sight, and smell here and there making him flinch due to how they are heightened. Mother and father talk over their tea, his father's leg jiggles and mother's smile warbles; but  _no one_ will actually speak of what today means.

Poking with disinterest at his breakfast, Remus isn't sure he likes this either. He  _wanted_ (wants) his father here...but, but he wants it to be acknowledged as well. To pretend, no, to  _ignore_ what is just hours away is a terrible, terrible thing to do. It's the sort of thing that causes a kink in routine and sets him on edge; which puts the wolf on edge and...the boy has to shake his head. They always moved quick after those instances.

Stabbing into his muffin needlessly, Remus draws his father's stare. Ensuring that the gold glares in his eyes (if only to make sure the man  _knows_ ), he remarks unapologetic, "I won't be able to enjoy Halloween tonight."

Mother's mouth sags and father laughs nervously. "Maybe we can do something special for dinner, hm?" He suggests, gaze darting hopefully to his wife.

"No," Remus disagrees, "I'm never hungry then."

The woman sits a little straighter. "That doesn't mean you don't need to eat!" She admonishes.

Dropping his fork and bringing his fingers beneath his legs, Remus glowers. "I'll just be sick if I do eat."

Father's stare darts between them, "Maybe for lunch then...?"

"Lyall!" The woman snaps, "Don't you dare suggest that, if you give him an inch he'll take an eel..."

"Why can't dad decide something? It's only fair after all the nights he ran away!" Remus argued.

Mother's eyes began to pour tears like a fountain and she buried her face away in her hands as she cried. The man got up, putting a hand on his wife's shoulder-not once looking at his son.

"Go to your room," he ordered.

Remus scoffed. "I'm tired of pretending," he muttered as he got up and left the room. Once at his door, he made sure to slam it hard enough that it shook the frame before he collapsed in front of it weeping bitterly.

* * *

The sun's nearly ready to disappear over the horizon and Remus hasn't moved from his spot by the door in all the hours he'd locked himself away. Lazily rubbing at his eyes, he ponders getting up and taking himself to the shed out back. Even if he's upset with his parents he wouldn't dare to threaten their lives by being negligent.

Sniffling in a pathetically nine-year-old way, Remus thunks his head against the door and tells himself he has ten minutes more when a knocking vibrates the door. Pulling away, Remus doesn't say anything-waiting for the person on the other side to reveal themselves.

"Remy? Kiddo? It's dad..." The voice hoarsely calls from the other side.

An unfortunate conflict of feelings arise in the boy. He wishes to know where his mother is, why isn't  _she_ here? (she always was) why does father even think he has a right to knock? After all he's put him and his mother through? Why is he still so disdainful of the man when he's obviously trying so very hard to win him and his mother over?

Fighting down the instinct and years of memory, Remus does what he knows he would have done at nine. He opens the door. Father, eyes rimmed red, stands there with a half-smile on his face.

"Remy," he greets; fingers reaching out only to fall back at the gold flashing in his son's eyes.

The boy gazes up, solemn. "Dad," he mimics, "What are you doing here?"

The man swallows thickly. "I told your mother to rest," he replies, "So I'll be taking you out to the safe house tonight."

The fair-haired boy's trepidation spiked. He won't know-not ever-why, but he blurts "Are you going to kill me?"

The shock that overcomes his father's features is something he hasn't ever seen. The man drops down to his knees and grabs Remus hard by the shoulders and shakes him. "Why are you asking me that?!" He roars, "Who put that idea in your head!? Did your mo-"

"If you finish that sentence  _I'll_ kill you!" Remus shrieks over him. And he means it. Mother had always and forever been there-even when she shouldn't have been (like when he was twenty-five and trying to forget Britain by exploring Transylvania). He may have (does) love his father, but their relationship had always felt inhibited since the bite.  _  
_

His father falls silent. Staring at Remus as if he's never seen him before; though, having a nine-year-old threaten to kill you with such passion is far from ordinary.

"Okay," he whispers.

Remus squirms out of the grip and throws himself at his father's knelt form. "Don't hate me, don't hate me..." he begs. "I'm  _sorry_!" And he's crying. He's crying because he knows no matter what he does, as long as he's cursed, his father will fear him like all sane people should.

( _"I'm not afraid of you-not ever," she whispers against his neck as he moves with her; the waxing gibbous gazing in from the window foreshadowing trials to come)_

Father's hands wrap around him in there own desperation and he kisses his tawny hair and tear stained cheeks as he pleads with Remus, "I  _don't_ hate you! Oh why won't you believe me? I don't, I don't I don't..."

The words wash over him, comforting and giving strength for the night to come; but Remus will never believe.

* * *

It's time, seated at the kitchen table around half-empty plates and full glasses; the werewolf turns to his father.

"I want to say goodnight to mum," he tells his father.

The man hesitates in replying. "Okay," he agrees, "But you have to be quiet, alright?"

Remus nods and before he can think to get down from his chair, his father scoops him up and whisks them both off to his parents's room. When the man opens the door, Remus notes the drawn shades, mused sheets and his mother's feet peeking out still with their stockings on. This had been a sudden decision, he notes, one of those things you do spur of the moment without weighing the true consequences. Taking him over to the woman, father's breath is hot against his ear.

"Be quick about it."

Remus leans in and from her parted lips, he can smell the sleeping drought. Sighing, he kisses her cheek. "Night mummy," he murmurs.

Taking him back a step, father lifts his face so the werewolf has to meet his gaze. "Are you ready now Remy?"

He buried his face in his father's neck. There is no ready. He feels the man exhale as he left the bedroom and took him out the backdoor to the shed. Setting him down on his feet, father awkwardly ruffles his hair. "I'll be here for you in the morning, okay?" He implores.

Remus's lip wobbled. "Don't leave me," he sniffled childishly. "Don't leave me!"

The man's eyes seem to break as they well with tears. "I won't," he whispers, "I'll be right outside the whole time."

"You won't!" The werewolf screams suddenly, "You lie and you leave! I hate you!"

The man looks at a loss through Remus's own tears as he closes the safe house's door in his father's face. Taking off his clothes and tucking them into the cubbyhole underneath the door like his mother taught him to all those years ago, Remus begins to wail like he hasn't in years. Mother won't be there for him in the morning, nor father, or Tonks, not even Madam Pomfrey. He'll be all alone because of his drive to prove that his father hates him like he always believed.

Through his tears, he feels it in his marrow as the sun disappears completely over the horizon and the moon begins to rise in its place. That familiar tingle of the wolf overcoming him bit by bit, Remus whispers;

"Happy Halloween."

The wolf might just appreciate the acknowledgement that he's dined to give it (and if it means a few less bruises and wounds in the morning, Remus will call it a miracle).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So you know how this is a part of a series and I have a bunch of pieces that (somehow) connect into the main story of "We can Begin the World all Over Again"? Well, there is a piece that goes very well with this Remus-centric chapter. It's called "A Sinking World" and focuses on the confrontation between Lyall and Greyback that lead to Remus being bitten. So if you want to check that out after this chapter....I think it would be beneficial.


	41. Solace in the Night

Clapping her hands as the Hallowe'en feast comes to a close, not even now can she fully stamp out the twinkle of delight in her eye. She remembers as a girl enjoying the spectacles the ghosts of Hogwarts preformed for the students after the feast, even now she finds it quite fascinating (how much work do they put into each performance? She never saw an act repeated). Considering the ghouls, she decides their shows are even more entertaining than the Hallowe'en parties she used to throw upon graduation.

Wishing to find comradery in her joy, she leaned over to whisper to Andromeda;

"Don't you adore the specters's show?"

The older girl-who's been so very moody lately-only frowns. "It's not  _that_ spectacular..." She mutters with a withering look back at her.

The blond scoffs. "Of course it is!" And with that, she pulls away from her sister; a stinging feeling behind her eyes. Why should she be so upset by Andromeda's dismissal? Her sister had been dismissing Narcissa for years! Making an effort to lose herself in the rest of the performance, the girl can't stop the persistent niggling in her head that makes her glance to Andromeda; as if hoping she'll change her mind-or at least apologize for her waspishness.

She doesn't, of course ( a good Black never does).

Once the display comes to its close and everyone has given an uproarious applause for the ghouls; students get up and leave in mass. As her sure feet carry her from the Great Hall;she sees the back of her husband's head. Hurrying over, she steals Lucius away with a wink at Kenneth. "Hope you don't mind," she tittered and the skinny boy just shrugged and turned to Rabastan instead.

Pleased with the response, she tugs the third year ahead a bit until they are caught behind some fifth years and second years. Happy to have Lucius to herself, Narcissa let her head fall on the other blond's shoulder as they left the hall; it was so hard to be together these days. In the mess outside, the pair managed to steal away and the boy lead them up a flight of stairs.

"Where are we going Lucius?" The girl thinks to ask.

He grinned. "I found a place we can be 'alone'," he explained.

She felt something jittery take hold of her-excitement-squeezing the third year's hand she batted her eyes. "How perfect," she whispered.

The dusting of pink on his cheeks is quite fetching, she thinks as they duck into an unused classroom. Hurrying over to a desk, Lucius helps her up and Narcissa opens her legs so he can stand between them as she leaned in for a kiss. It's a sweet feeling. Nostalgic. They haven't been like this...since they started dating (the first time). Wrapping her arms around his neck, she doesn't mind when he pushes her robe back and begins to fiddle with the buttons of her blouse. It's been far too long.

* * *

Pacing the halls of the second floor as he searches for young students avoiding curfew as well as for older students participating in  _unbecoming_ behavior, the potion;s professor gives his mind the permission to think freely. Horace doesn't know what to do with himself these watches his students, he looks for signs he's _sure_  must be there...but he can't find them. Maybe he's looking too hard, maybe not hard enough; possibly-possibly there  _aren't_ signs, just youthful impulses that lead a generation of wizards down a dark path into the hands of a mad puppeteer.

Shaking his head as he hurries along, he passes a closed classroom door only to hear...a giggle? Yes. Undoubtedly a giggle. Stealing himself, he marches up to the door and takes a deep breath before closing his eyes.

"You have until the count of three!" He shouts, "One!" A hand on the door, "Two!" Pushing the door open, "Three!" It swings open easily and he takes a couple steps in. "I'm going to open my eyes, if you are not decent it is no ones fault but your own," he tells whoever is standing before him as he opens his eyes.

Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, it's a mused Narcissa Black and a flushed Lucius Malfoy that are huddled close on top of a desk. He's mortified. This-this shouldn't be happening! They're much too young, he'd never-he paused and looked at them both very seriously.

The girl, the bun her hair is so often kept in is half undone, her robe is pulled around her and looking further down toward Narcissa's ankles he sees her-he moves quickly on to Lucius. The boy's sweater is crumpled on the desk, his shirt buttoned hastily and his face-it's not abashed. No, it's  _livid._ Horace doesn't know what to say. He so rarely caught students this young doing much more than snogging. This, he unhappily notes, is rare.

"Need I remind you, that you are a twelve-year-old  _girl_ and a thirteen-year-old  _boy_."

Lucius's face reddens further and his hands ball into fists. "I'm no  _boy_ ," he growled.

"Lucius..." Narcissa whispers, fingers escaping the dark confines of her robe to touch his ear.

He bats her away. "No! I'm tired of this! Being told what to do, when to do it, how to do it! I'm not some lobotomized sheep! I can make my own decision about myself!" Pushing himself away from the desk, his eyes are only on Narcissa as he hisses "While we have him alone, we might as well test out your theory, no? If you're- _we're-_ wrong we can always obliviate him."

The girl's eyes are wide and her face worryingly pale as the man feels a sweat breakout on the back of his neck. He takes a step back, poised to escape when the young boy's eyes lock on his.

"Who was defeated this very night?" He demanded.

Horace only knows one answer.

"You-know-who," he replied. He feels his knees go weak, these  _children_ , are not children despite what their appearance says otherwise.

Narcissa and Lucius relax some, but neither looks pleased. "So I was right," the twelve-year-old muttered.

"A lot of good that does us," Lucius grumbled. Horace can't help but agree with the (ex?)Death-Eater's sentiment. A lot of good he is. He can't even figure out who's already on the path to the Dark Lord's side and who can still be saved.

Glaring, Narcissa snapped. "Maybe he  _knows_ something!"

As much as he hates to do it, Horace isn't going to lie or make himself seem anymore knowing than his students. "I can't say I know anymore than you," he breaks in gently. "Nor does Professor Flitwick."

"I knew he was behaving oddly!" Lucius remarked with wide eyes as he turned to his wife.

She tossed her hair, causing it to cascade down the robe like a waterfall of light. "He seemed just as chipper as he always did to me!" She countered.

Horace has no interest in sitting through a lover's spat, clearing his throat he inquired; "Who else do you know of who has their memories?"

Distracted from their argument, they look at him. "Us, Severus Snape, Bellatrix, Andromeda, Sirius and Regulus Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Lily Evans and Augusta Longbottom."

The potion's professor had never considered that there could be so many people. It's more than a little frightening. "And they are...safe?" He implored uncertain as how to ask a question to know where their loyalties lie.

Lucius nodded. "As of right now, we are all in a cooperative effort."

Horace breathes a sigh of relief. He feels more certain knowing that the children haven't pitted themselves against one another-at the very least, he knows they can all be called upon if the need arose for them.

Narcissa, biting her lip, asked. "When did you die?"

The man straightens his robe, pondering how he should answer. "2019," he admitted and the children fell into each other clinging to one another's hands. "Draco-" Narcissa starts.

"I had his son for a student, Scorpius," he cut off gently. "He seemed to be a good lad-quick to smile." And he attributed that to the boy's mother, Blacks and Malfoys had always been know for their stoic behavior.

The girl begins to cry. The boy holds her close and combs his fingers through her hair. Uncomfortable, Horace shifts between his feet and finally decides to tell them, "Take your time." Turning his back on them as he leaves, he calls over his shoulder; "I won't take points from you, but you will have a detention in my classroom tomorrow after dinner."

Closing the door behind him, Horace leans against it. What kind of madness is this? Bring people back from the grave to bodies of their past? Putting many of them in the bodies of  _children_. Spoiling the potential that their youthful selves have. He doesn't understand it, but he hopes whoever has done this know what they are doing.

 


	42. What's Missed and Loved

It was Henrietta's idea. Lying on her stomach, her chin resting in one palm while Nora Bulstrode studiously studies her palm and then the book next to her. Andromeda kicks her feet and demands "Are we done yet? Have you figured out how many lovers, children and what my absolute biggest secret is yet?"

A ruddy blush came to Nora's round face. "Give me a little longer than two minutes, wouldn't you?" She snaps as she jerked her head back down causing her thin brown hair to fall around her face.

"Oh please, it's just like reading tea leaves-a waste;" Andromeda grumbles, not in the mood for this childish activity in the slightest.

Bouncing over from where she and Alceto had been braiding each other's hair, Henrietta pouted at her. "Come on 'droma don't be a spoil-sport!" She pleaded in the dim light.

Scowling, the taller girl yanked her hand back.

"Hey!"

Getting up and shrugging back on her cloak, she gave them an almost apologetic look as she told them "I'm sorry, but I just don't feel like I'm in the mood for merriment."

"Spoil-sport!" Alceto sneered, "See if we let you join us again!" Tossing her devil-red braid behind her shoulder.

Andromeda paused in tucking away her wand. "That's fine," she blurted. "You aren't much fun anyway."

Henrietta breaks into peals of laughter as Nora gasps somewhere behind her.

"Shut up!" Alceto snarls, maybe at Henrietta or maybe at her, but Andromeda decided not to stick around for any hexes and hurried out of the dorm. Passing through the common room, she sees that the sixth and seventh years' after-feast bash is in full swing (though, she can't spot her curly-haired sister among them). With the ease all middle-children are in possession of, she doesn't draw a single eye to her in Hogwart's halls as she flits through them.

Eventually, she comes to the owlery and among the droppings, straw and little skeletons, she finds a half-way decent crate and settles down to weep. This isn't how she pictured her Halloween, she'd imagined herself safely tucked away in her and Ted's home in her armchair by the fire-a visit from Harry and Ginny around dinner and then a letter from Teddy to let her know that he is doing well before heading up to bed.  _Just like always_.

But no, she had to  _die_ (when? In her sleep? She remembered reading in her armchair and then...she nodded off into the great beyond?). Andromeda could see easily that this new chance at youth is just what her younger sister wanted- _needed_ after all that happened to them and it'd obviously done Bellatrix a great deal of good. She was just like she remembered from her early childhood-if not a little troubled; but what else should she expect? Her sister  _killed_ people. Innocents. If that isn't something to be troubled over, she doesn't know what is.

Finishing off her crying jag with a swipe under her eyes, she looks to the owls around her who have quieted. "I'm sorry loves," she called; "Carry on with whatever it is you birds do in the evenings."

"I don't know that they actually do much more at night than they do during the day," a voice from behind remarked.

Swinging around, Andromeda has her wand drawn; but she relaxes when she sees it's  _Ted_. "Owl's are nocturnal, aren't they? You'd think they'd be doing something right now."

The boy shrugged as he approached. Heart hammering, Andromeda rose to her feet and asked; "What brings you here?"

He lifts his hand, in it is a letter. "I'm sending my parents a letter," he admitted. "But then..." his earnest eyes (how could a Hufflepuff have anything else?) search her. "Are you okay Andromeda? You've seemed terribly sad lately."

She felt her cheeks burn. "You noticed, huh?"

"I-is it my fault? That kiss was  _amazing_ and all, but I don't  _know_ you and I felt weird and-"

"Ted," she cut in.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry.."

"I want to know you," she whispered. "Let me know you, please."

"A Hufflepuff and a Slytherin Andromeda?" He questioned doubtfully. "What will people say?"

Fingers reaching out and grasping his wrist she makes his meet her gaze. "Who cares? Just a little over two and a half years until we're gone from here and then... _it won't matter_."

Ted looked uncomfortable. Andromeda tried to remember a time her husband had been anything less than confident; the best she could do was when he had to run during the war. But even then he'd sounded so  _sure_ he'd be okay...(not that he would be in the end). Dark eyes that were so quick to find humor, found Andromeda's and only held trepidation. "I don't know Andromeda..."

"We don't have to be a  _couple,_ " she stressed. "I just-you always seem so nice and I could do with some nice in my life..."

The fair-haired teen bit his lip. "Surely you have friends...?"

"Like I'd call those capricious girls  _friends_ ," the girl muttered; "They're just as quick to praise as they are to sneer!"

Ted's expression turned to one of stunned worry. "Everyone  _knows_ Slytherin are a prickly bunch, but you're like that to  _each other_ as well?"

"There is a lot of in-house feuds," she agreed; "The girls are all so  _vapid_ all they want to do is make the right coupling to prepare themselves for when the graduate-marrying is more a strategic move than a thing of love."

"That sounds  _awful_!" Ted exclaimed quietly. "Who teaches them to think like that?"

"It's the mentality, the point of being in Slytherin is to go far in life; and to the girls, marrying right is how they do this." The girl tells her companion in the miserable way only a true disillusioned Slytherin can explain.

Ted was quiet for a moment.

"Okay," he sighed. "I agree that you could do with a friend..."

"Like you," Andromeda insisted.

He frowned. "How would we meet, though? It'd be strange for us to pair off together anywhere."

"Hm..." the Slytherin hummed. "I have an idea," she said with a cunning grin. "You take Runes, right?"

"Yeah."

Squeezing his hand, Andromeda imparts happily; "You can pretend to tutor me-or maybe you could for real, I'm not very good at it..."

"And that wouldn't be strange to your house?" Ted asked dubious.

She shook her head. "No," she answered; "No one's going to blame a girl for trying not to fail her classes, besides, if anyone asks I'll just say that the professor recommended you."

"When will we meet?" Ted inquired.

"Thursdays? An hour before dinner?" Andromeda implored.

"That'd be good," Ted nodded. "I have Gobstone club on Wednesdays and Tuesdays."

Smiling up at her husband's boyish features, Andromeda let her lashes droop just so as she thanked him. "Really Ted, thanks for agreeing to this."

"You got a poor lot in your house," he reminded her; "And I don't think it's fair that you don't have a friend among them."

"Oh Ted, fair's got nothing to do with it. I  _chose_ to go there, I knew what I was getting myself into."

He stepped away, hand slipping out of hers. "Then why'd you let the hat put you there? Why would you set yourself up to be miserable?"

"For my parents, my father would have been  _furious_ if I was sorted elsewhere." She sighed as she finished. "As I told you, this is only seven years of my life...once I'm done and have a place of my own, he won't be able to do anything to me anymore."

"Then why are so insistent on making friends with me now?" He demanded, fists balled at his sides.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say  _because you will be my husband_ , but she knows that it will drive him off for good. So, with a sad, sad smile she mumbled; "I realize even I can't do without companionship."

"Why me though?"

She couldn't help herself as she reached out and brushed her fingertips along his face. "You are kind," she whispered; "All I want is to have a friend who is kind because that's  _who they are_."

His face became a pleasing red as he turned away. "I'll see you in a couple days," he said as he left.

"Goodbye!" Andromeda called after him.

"I'll see you Andromeda!" The fair-haired boy echoed.

In the drafty tower, the girl stands there a long time after. Heart thudding and mind bursting with joy. She's gotten it. She's gotten her second chance with Ted! Maybe, maybe she can bring him to love her again.

 


	43. Ropes Unbound

Bellatrix knows exactly what she's doing as she slinks out of the Great Hall. Carrying herself off through the halls, she feels as if she is a ghost; not a single portrait looks her way, no statues shift with her passing and her  _feet_ , they are mute. Bellatrix feels both relieved and maddened by this; she is pleased that it means she can carry out her task with no interruption, but it also causes her to question her state. Is she alive? Or is she dead? Is it possible to be both? Or neither? These months, they have not felt much like living; but they haven't felt like death either.

She always suspected death would hurt. A constant burning, stabbing pain that would tell her that she was bad. That she was evil and wrong and  _responsible._ Even in the height of her madness Bellatrix had known what she did was wrong. She knew taking lives like god was a sin and muggle or no, it was not up to her to decide if they lived or not. Maybe, maybe it was why she looked to her lord for guidance. He was god on earth. And she was his warrior, faithful and forever fulfilling his mission. Bellatrix had never accepted the blame for what she did until now. Before, when she had been a shadow of the person she was now, she may not have believed she had the right to kill; but she had thought she was carrying out a higher purpose. That what she was doing would be proved  _right_ when her lord's world came to fruition. That then her sins would be wiped clean. She would finally be  _right._

It didn't happen like that, though. She died mad and alone. No one there to mourn her loss. No praise. No glory. She was  _wrong._ Wrongwrongwrong-

She fell to her knees. The grass wet in her white hands. There was no blood on these seventeen-year-old fingers, they were pure like her. Both beautiful and innocent. A sobbed rippled through her. This body may be virgin to many things; (killing, maiming, hurting, fucking, kissing,) bu Bellatrix was  _not._ She was not the girl with the blank slate, she was the woman with cleaned slate. If you looked hard enough, you'd find the old was still there; maybe it was a shape that was already written over with new, but you could still  _see_ it.

And Bellatrix knows, even if her slate is clean, it will be coated in red come Christmas Holiday. She will be inducted into the lord's circle and any attempt to refuse, fight, run, will end with her dead or annexed from all she knows. It will put those two, precious, beautiful sisters she can remember once fondly petting and loving in their infancy at risk. She can't do that to them. She can't let them be broken and sent into spiraling madness that only fate stopped. Bellatrix loved them too dearly.

Wide eyes lifting to the full moon above, the girl's mouth open in silent questioning. How is she to avoid her future? How is she keep her sisters from taking her place? Oh fate, where was its guidance? Fate brought them here, but she-everyone-has gone so long without direction. If things continue on as they are, she fears they will fall to infighting and fracture before they can be of any use.

"Give me- _us-_ something!" She howls, "You have given us a second chance, but we are in the dark! If you are fate,  _guide_ us through it you foul creature!"

Suddenly, that frightfully human yet  _not_ countenance swarms her vision and the witch arches back; screams tearing out of her throat. Images, thoughts, knowledge are  _seared_ into her brain hot like fire and stinging like ice. She claws at her face as she rolls back;  _  
_

" _Stop! Stop!_   ** _Stop!_** " She wails, "It's too  _much_!" But fate does not listen. Fates knows what must be done. And it is done.

The teenager who is not blacks out under the moon's quiet gaze.

* * *

It's a quite groan. Putting aside his work, Dumbledore take his glass in his hands. He remembers as a lad he had quite like Hallowe'en. All the mystery and pomp that came with it. Now as the clock strikes two, he thinks of his sister, mother and father; all the people who have departed from this plane. The old man can't recall if he was told or if he read it, but he knows somewhere, at some point he'd learned Hallowe'en was when the veils between this world and the next were at their thinnest. If anyone wanted to, this would be the time to reach him from the other side.

No one had ever tried as far as he could tell. And while he wished to see his family again; Albus also knew he needed to refrain. Thing were on the horizon and to play with the other side now of all times could compromise him and the role he knew he may have to take up once more. Pouring back the rest of his drink, he puts his glass down with a hard clank.

Eyes meandering to Fawkes who slept easily by the glow of the fire, a smile lifted his lips. The bird was by far the best familiar he'd ever had. Not one had ever seemed to understand him as well as his Phoenix. A piercing shriek filled his office and Dumbledore had to duck back abruptly as an owl swooped through leaving a letter on his desk. Blinking at the strange delivery, the old man leaned in to study it.

A sweat broke out on the back of his neck.

_Albus Dumbledore_

He recognized that script. He knew it nearly as well as his own and definitely as well as he knew that of his Headmistress. It was from Gellert Grindelwald. What could the man be possibly writing _him_ for? What compelled his ex-friend to send him a letter? What information did the man believe he held that could be of use to Albus? It frightened him to look at it. The implications it could have...they were numerous and all were dismal he was sure. With shaking hand, Albus waved his wand over it check for hexes, curses and anything else that could cause harm.

When none could be found, the old man took the letter in his hand and tore into it. Eyes scanning the lengthy body, Hogwart's Headmaster feared further for his old friend's sanity and at the same time wondered how much could be true and if this epic he'd composed was complete or if there was more that he knew. Finishing it, he put it down and began to brood.

How did one die and end up in the past? How did you simply take the place of your past-self? And if what Gellert was true...how much did he truly know? He had been in prison until his death. He could have only heard snatches and gossips of true news. He was not involved in this second war...not like he implied Albus had been. But even if his old friend did not know much and only knew half-truths, he was still a source of knowledge. Not the very best, but it was better than nothing and could be useful for saving lives and negating threats.

The further he pondered the uses of this man, Albus wondered if would be better to bring him closer to Hogwarts; maybe the could set up a cell for him within Hogwarts...but the students. How could he risk them so blatantly. The public would never go for it. The children in his halls were precious things to so many, the idea of a dictator being somewhere in the innards of the castle where a student could stumble...they would have  _Albus_ committed. Fingers itching for his quill, the man began to scratch and etch out ideas.

He needed this to be discreet. No one could know about what Gellert knew. It would send too many into chaos. And as Albus Dumbledore plotted, he was made to wonder if his old friend was the only with memories of the "future" or if he was truly and absolutely mad. Grimly, Albus re-read the first detailed event the man had scrawled out. It would occur over winter holidays. If it happened...well, it would be an unfortunate loss of life; but it would be the proof the old man needed to collaborate with Gellert.

Maybe, possibly if his old friend was with his mind and actually with knowledge of days, months and years to come; Albus could stop this next war the other wrote of so passionately from ever occurring...

* * *

"Bellatrix, Bella-love; wake up" a voice murmured brushing hair from her face.

Blinking her eyes open, the girl recoiled at the pain it cause her head and groaned. The gentle hand paused, "Are you alright?" The person holding her asked.

"Fine," the dark-haired teen grit. "What are you doing out here Glinda?"

There was a pause. "I came after you," she admitted.

"Why?"

The hand combing through her hair fell away only to pet her cheek instead. "I love you."

Sitting up despite how dizzy it made her, Bellatrix sighed. "We've been over this, you do  _not._ " Staring the one and only girl she had considered a true ally in Slytherin downl; she insisted "You love the influence I-my family-wields."

A stubborn look morphed onto her countenance. "I will prove that I love you."

"Let's go inside."

"Why do you ignore me?"

Now standing, Bellatrix turned around. "I do not love  _you_!" She spat. "That is a romantic notion best left to little girls and Gryffindors! be realistic Glinda! You will marry a man, you will bare an heir and live the life of a true pureblood woman!"

Finger gesturing between the two of them, the witch insisted; "Now leave me be. I am Lestrange's bride-not yours."

Stalking away, the girl thought she was done with her roommate when the other burst;

"I heard what you said!"

Bellatrix stopped cold.


	44. Becoming Clear

James remembers his last Halloween. The Halloween where he was married, where he had a son, where he was in hiding. The Halloween where he died. On the steps between the foyer and his family's upstairs, James fussed with the itchy sleeves of his dress robe. Mother, whisking by, calls over her shoulder;

"James, stop fussing."

Scowling, the boy snaps back "'m not!" and sits down in a great huff. He's in no mood for tonight. It feels... _wrong_ not to sit solemnly by and let the night pass. Halloween flips his stomach uneasily and he wonders if it shows on his face because his father ruffles his hair as he passes.

"Son, stop moping," he half-commands, half-pleads.

Looking up, James scrambles after the man. Reaching for his robe even though he feels to old for such a boyish action. "Just tired dad!" He lies coming around and welcoming the arm that wraps around his shoulder. It's been a long time since he'd had his father hold him like he was now.

Face gentle, he teases the dark-haired boy. "Already? What, were you too excited to sleep?"

"No!" James argues puffing out his cheeks. "Not too excited..." his father glances to him, but they are at the door and it's too late to question further.

Throwing back his shoulders, the man swings open his home's door with a smile.

"Welcome!" He booms and James blinks at who he sees on the other side.

It's the Longbottoms.

The woman, Augusta's eyes went immediately to him just as her son's did. But the look in them was far less innocent than the one in Frank's. Him and Frank had been pretty good mates as kids, but his mother hadn't ever paid much attention to him (not that he'd ever begrudged her, she was a busy woman and more often than not, anything to do with daily upkeep went to her husband-including their son). Now, though, with all the things that were at stake...he was so much more important to the woman. More important than James had ever been before. Possibly even more than when he'd been Harry's father.

Looking away, Augusta gave a hand to Jame's father as her son took her cue and smiled at his dark-haired friend.

"Hi James," he greeted.

Smiling back, the boy is reminded how badly it hurt to hear what happened to him and his wife. "'lo Frank," he echoed.

A hand brushes the back of his head. "If you want," his father murmurs, "You and Frank can hurry off to the table where your mother has put all the sweets."

Lifting his gaze up, James sees the happy twinkle. The light that means everything's fine and father's very pleased with everything. It's the look James knew how to bring out with a cheeky smirk, loud laughter and enthusiastic hugs; the face that always reminded the dark-haired boy that his loved him even if he didn't say it all the time like mother did.

Sometimes, he wonders what his father would think if he knew everything. Knew everything that James had done and is doing. If he knew he failed to save his wife and son. Would father still love him?

Stopping the thoughts before they can overwhelm him like they often do these days, he grabs Frank by his wrist,and exclaims;

"What are we waiting for Frank?!"

The brunette blinks like he'd always done at James's suddenness, but he lets his contemporary drag him to the table across the foyer with no complaint. At the table, their small fingers grab handfuls of everything before the messy-haired youth leads them off for another part of the house.

Boy or no, he'd never enjoyed big parties like these. As gregarious as James was, as much as he liked having everyone's eyes on him...he'd always preferred it to be friends watching. People who _mattered._  Not acquaintances and strangers.

Once tucked away in one of his rooms, James laid out his hoard on his bedspread and flopped back to grab his latest Quidditch Magazine. Grinning at this young, innocent friend he asked;

"So what did you think the of the Appleby Arrow's loss to the Wimbourne Wasps*? I read that Winston Busby** snapped his broom in half 'cause he was so angry that they lost! The interview they had with him was pretty funny too."

Taking a part a Macaroon, Frank laughed. "They deserved it! The Wasp's had been working double-time for this game, and what about the Arrows? They were cocky and thought they'd win just like the last two games!"

James began to nod as the other talked. His brunette contemporary had always been good at analyzing the reasons why teams lost or won. "That's a good point..."

* * *

Jerking his head up as the door to his room opens, James sees that it is Augusta Longbottom standing in the light of the hall.

Rubbing the grit from his eyes, the boy says; "Hey."

Coming in, the woman closed the door behind her and waved a quick silencing charm on the room. Her eyes are turn gooey as they land of Frank who's curled up close to James with frosting on his cheek. She flits over and takes her son in her arms and James hates her for it. Why does she get her son back, but he doesn't get his? Why bring him back if he is to be a child? What good is a child?

None.

"I see you two had fun," Augusta mutters.

James shrugs. "As much fun as a couple of boys with a Quidditch magazine and an arm load of sweets can have."

"You know, sometimes I'd look at my grandson and think he looks nothing like Frank." Peppering a kiss to the nine-year-old's face she whispers; "But I was wrong..." and there's so much regret there, that James wonders what she did to his friend's son. Surely it couldn't have been as bad as whatever Lily's sister and her brute husband did.

James doesn't know what spurs him, but he tries to comfort her. "At least you loved Frank's kid, Neville? Neville. I don't know how you couldn't of when you love him," dipping his head in the other boy's direction. "But I don't think Harry got the same. He went to  _Petunia_ ," he sneers. "Petunia hated me. Lily. Magic. And I have no doubt she didn't love my Harry."

Shifting her son so he sighs against her shoulder as Augusta sits down next to him, the woman's stern face doesn't waver from his. "Many,  _many_ , people would have taken in your son and loved them, appreciated him;" she imparts. "And I'm sorry that he didn't end up with someone who would have...but it's what Dumbledore thought was best for him." She smirks a little and reaches out to wrap his head. "He didn't want the boy growing up a hothead like you."

Confused, James frowned. "Surely he could have gone to  _someone_ besides them...someone who would have loved him. I know Remus would have loved him  _and_ made sure he didn't grow up spoiled."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think the public would have let their little savior be raised by a werewolf? Never."

The more and more James thinks about it, the more he hates what he hears. "This time if something happens, I'm going to make  _sure_ my son goes to someone who will love him."

"That's a good start," Augusta admits. "Another would be not to put all your trust in a man who works for the  _greater_ good and not always the individual good."

James frowns. "You mean Dumbledore."

"It's alright to trust him," the auror explains. "Just don't trust him with your most prized possession."

This is a lot for James. He doesn't know who he can trust. Not Dumbledore. At least, not completely...his eyes fall to the woman cradling her son. Maybe he could trust her? She, next to Sirius and Remus, and maybe Andromeda, was the most trustworthy time traveler (he still didn't trust Malfoy, or the rest of the Blacks-Snape the least and with the sway he was holding over his wife...James didn't know if he could trust Lily right now either).

"You knew Harry, didn't you?"

She paused. "I did," she agreed.

"Was he happy? Did someone love him before you died?"

The woman smiles and puts a hand on his. "Very much," she answered. "He and Neville were friends and I often heard third-hand the antics Harry's oldest son got into-he was a real trouble-maker, like his namesakes."

James grins. It settles the anxious wonder. His son, while not loved by his aunt and uncle, had found someone who loved him in the end and had children. the messy-haired youth didn't think he could have asked for much more.


	45. Won't You?

"Hold still boys!" Lily's mother demands as they poke each other with cardboard swords; Lily giggling on Severus's side where she begs for Dirk to rescue him from the "villainous man" holding her captive. The rebuke puts them back in time and the trio still, staring wide-eye at the woman and her Polaroid. "Smile!" She shouted and a flash later, the trio are watching a picture come to life in the adult's fingers.

Coming over with a glass of Scotch in hand, Mr. Evans puts a hand around Julie's waist. "Are the children ready love?"

Eyes staring at the picture admiringly, she gives it to the man. "Take a look Paul."

"Don't we have a dashing trio?" He smiled.

"Lemme see dad!" Lily pleads coming to his side to tug at his sleeve. Obligingly, the photo ends up in her small grasp. Eyes settling on the three small faces, she fell in love. They all looked so candid; Severus half-turned, sword raised and hair falling into his eyes, herself, dressed in green and gold still smiling from where she peaked around Dirk and said boy, his cardboard shield thrust out and his mouth gaping. He would look fierce, if it weren't for the way his eyebrows were perfect upside down Us of surprise. Handing it back, she says; "We should frame it."

"I think you're right," her mother agrees smiling.

"You kids ready to go?"

They hurried off to get their coats. "Let's go!" Dirk cried in excitement as he stood brandishing his sword for them all.

"Coming kiddo!" Paul yells back, kissing his wife and handing her back his glass. "I'll be back in an hour," he tells her.

She gave him a doleful look and whispers "Don't rush them alright? I guess this is one of the school's bigger events and I-"

"Bye love."

"Goodbye!"

And the four are gone, half-way down the street.

* * *

"Go play kids, I'll be waiting for you here;" Mr. Evan explains.

Looking to the gymnasium filled with people and events, Lily doesn't know where to start. "Dad..."

"You're old school had a an apple-bobbing contest, didn't it? I think I see one over by the open door;" and he gives her and Severus a little nudge. "Daddy'll be right here with all the other mummies and daddies okay?"

"Yes sir," Severus answers for them as he snags her by the wrist. Leading them through the throngs, Lily is surprised by grim expression and only listens with half an ear to their fair-haired companion's babbling.

"-upper years will try to budge, 'cause they're older n'stuff; so don't get upset if line takes a long time."

"They won't cut in front of  _me_ ;" Severus declares and Lily worries. She doesn't want to start any confrontations tonight.

Biting her lip, she looks around and spies a cake (or rather, a bakery,) walk. "If that's the case, why don't we go do the cake walk? I see some slices of pumpkin pie...you like that, don't you Sev? You always seemed to like pumpkin juice anyway..."

"What's pumpkin juice? Is it orange?"

Lily finds Dirk's inquiries both agitating and adorable. It'll be so much fun to watch him discover the magical world. Severus eyes her darkly. "Are you sure Lily?"

She bobbed her head. She wants everything to stay as light and pleasant as it had felt back at their home. "I am!" She grinned. "You'll love it too, Sev."

"I don't know about that..." he snorted, but he seemed half-way jovial tonight. It's pleasant and she wants,  _needs_ it to last. Otherwise, she might just break down in tears; it's hard to pretend that today holds no more significance than a day to simply eat sweets and tell ghost stories when she keeps seeing  _his_ face in every dark shadow that she spies.

Hearing a stream of carnival-like music begin, she grabbed her Sir Lancelot and King Arthur and hurried them forward. "It's starting!" And quick as the boys can in cardboard-confines, they are stumbling after her as children run from colored spot to colored spot; waiting for the cake walk to finish. Losing herself in the activity, she hardly realizes she's laughing along with the other fairies, princesses and witches until they are made to stop as the music stops short.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, a piece of pie in hand and Dirk sharing a bag of cookies with Severus; the trio meander outside of the gym to their swings in the playground. Taking a seat, Lily sighs and mutters; "I don't even think Hogwarts can beat this Sev."

he pauses mid-nibble and gives a smooth jerk towards their King Arthur. "Oh? I think my mother would have disagreed."

"What's Hogwarts? It sounds icky."

The redhead felt a tug a her lips. "Doesn't it? It's a magical school..."

"That doesn't  _exist_."

Lily reaches around and slaps the dark-haired boy's arm. "He's going there in another year or so anyway, why hide it?"

"Why am  _I_ going there?" Dirk demands. "Did I do somethin' bad?"

She feels her heart pick up. "Oh no sweet," Lily croons. "All good little witches and wizards get to go there."

"Not all of them are good," Severus mutters.

"Hush you!" Lily hisses, "Not all are bad either."

Gaze darting between them, Dirk's face is oddly solemn. "So, so it's like a regular school? But just for witches and wizards?"

"Yeah."

He looked to his bag of cookies and then back at them. "...Is that why everyone thinks I'm weird? 'cause 'm a wizard?"

Lily bites her cheek. She doesn't want to say that's why, because it's not  _right_. But Severus, tactful as ever and oh so blunt, answers for her. "To some extent," he answers. "It's hard not to dislike something you don't understand."

"...if they knew I was a wizard would they hate me more?"

"Yes and no," Severus replied. "Some, like Lily's sister, would be disgusted with you for not being like everyone else; others would really like having you for a friend, because, how many can say they have a real live  _wizard_ as a mate?"

Dirk laughed. "Not a lot," he replies.

Severus nods. "Uh-huh," he agrees. "Just wait, you'll be at Hogwarts by the time you're eleven and  _everyone_ there has magic. You'll make yourself some good friends."

His head bows and she fears the worst. "You and Lily, you'll be my friends until then; won't you? Even after? 'cause I want to be your best mate forever and ever."

"Oh Dirk..." Severus looks to her sharply and Lily wilts a little. He doesn't want to "encourage" this behavior because they simply don't  _know_ if a friendship can be sustained between them; yet... "Yes Dirk. We'll be your friends."

The dark-haired boy threw himself from the swing in disgust. Getting up, Lily hurried after; "Sev!" Suddenly, her father appeared with his hands on his hips and a smile.

"There you kids are! Ready to go?"

"Yes sir," Severus answered for them, shaking off Lily to go to the man. Paul wore a smile that remind her of the one he wore when he drank a little too much at parties and without thought, the man swung Severus up from the ground and to his shoulders.

Sev yelps. "You're alright!" Mr. Evan declares gesturing for Lily and Dirk to take a spot on either side of him. "Let's go kids!" Having no choice, the little witch and wizard hurry to the man and take their appointed spots.

A half-hour later, back in their home, Lily looks to her friend.

"Are you okay Sev? Are you really mad at me?"

He flips from where he was fiddling with a toy soldier on the couch and stares at her. "I guess I expected you'd profess as much eventually," he admits. "I just hoped it'd be later."

"...then you aren't upset?"

"I am," he asserts. "You shouldn't promise things you don't know you can keep to children; it ruins them." Lining up the solider beside the rest on the arm of the couch, he smiles a little. "But I also realizes you wouldn't be Lily if you didn't try and make sure everyone was happy."

She feels a lump form in her throat. "I never did that for you. Or Harry." She whispers.

"I accepted the fact that I was something you had to let go and well, I think Dumbledore's a bit more to blame for the situation Harry fell into." But the way he  _said_ it, Lily didn't like it. His voice had gotten all quiet and he refused to look at her as he whispered the part about Dumbledore.

"...You don't believe that, do you? It's not Dumbledore's fault."

He swipes angrily at his eyes and sighs. "Lily, I betrayed you to the Dark Lord and you could have been spared if I..."

"What Sev, what?!" The redhead was upset. Were all her friends villains?

He swallowed. "If I hadn't gone to Dumbledore and wrote- _-saw_ -you, I could have explained and you would have left Godric's and you might-" he clammed up. Fingers tight around one of his army men.

Lily pulled herself up beside him and hugged the boy. Both of them lost things today. Her, her baby; Severus, his confidence in himself. "I don't blame you."

His fingers dig into her shoulders. "Why not?"

She pulls away and stares into fathomless black. "This is supposed to be about second chances, right? We're giving each other a do-over and I'm going to let go of the past for you. So, please Sev, don't blame yourself."

This seemed to be exactly the right thing to say, because a moment later his head is on her shoulder as he silently shakes with sobs. Comforting him, Lily jealously wonders why Severus doesn't offer comfort for the child and husband she lost today.

It's selfish, she knows and it makes her feel all the worse as his head bumps the underside of her chin and all she can think of is the baby shampoo Harry's hair used to smell like.

 


	46. Counting Stars

Watching her two son's play with their family's set of Gobstones, Walburga uses her heal to push the garden swing she sits on. Reg gives a sudden cry as a reddish hued liquid squirts his hands and Sirius falls to the ground not far off giggling like a madman. Her gaze meandering to the glass of dandelion wine she held she wondered if missing her brother's party was truly worth it.

"Walburga," Orion called falling into the empty space beside her.

The woman looked to her husband. He was as handsome as he'd been when they became engaged. Glancing once more to her sons, Walburga felt satisfied that they were absorbed in their activity and took her the man's hand and downed the rest of her wine. "Imagine what everyone must think now that we've missed nearly a quarter of my brother's party."

"They will think we decided to stay home and have a quiet Hallowe'en with our sons."

She sends him a withering frown. "Don't be obtuse dear, they will believe someone is gravely ill, that our marriage is on the rocks  _and_ that someone has died. We. Do. Not. Miss. Parties."

" _You_ don't," Her husband agreed. "You are a social animal despite all that you've tried to deny it over the years."

Walburga sniffed. "I never-"

"Sirius is the same, you know."

Her eyes go to her laughing, wild-child. He will be the death of her someday. "I don't know about that..." she mumbled.

"He enjoys a good party and the attention just as much as you love," the man insisted. "The only reason he's not questioning us right now is he finds this all to be very novel and exciting."

"We can't miss the Christmas party," She remarked.

Orion sighed. "I know." Leaning her head on his shoulder, she pointed to the quiet, considerate Regulus.

"If Sirius is my double, Regulus is yours."

"Please don't say that," her husband pleaded.

She pushed away and considered the slowly lining face of her only and best love. "Why not?"

He had no answer.

"Is it so bad to have a son who is thoughtful? Who is sympathetic and kind? Who will someday make a girl happier than she would have expected?"

"Don't start on this-"

Walburga ignored him and talked over Orion. "The good lord knows Sirius will win some girl with his crazed laughter and recklessness; but they will be left heartbroken-with a line of mistresses behind her." And that is what she sees of her son's future. He will marry young, have children young, filter through girl after girl leaving his poor wife home to raise her child(ren) bitterly and brokenly as she had been raised and her dear Sirius will never care a wit about the woman's feelings.

"Why must you always think the worst of him Walburga? Why?" Orion begged.

"He's just like my fa-" she stopped. They didn't talk about parents and their failures. And  _especially_ not with the children so close.

The dark-haired man gripped at her hand with a painful intensity. "He's  _not_. He's not Wal'a. Love,  _love_ he's a good boy. Loyal to a fault." Orion insisted this as if it was the one truth he knew to his very core and the woman was left breathless.

"How-" she paused. "How can you just  _know_. He's nine for the lord's sake!"

Something about her husband's eyes clouded and he broke away, hunching in on himself. "I-I don't know" he whispered. "But I can  _feel_ it Wal'a."

She's always trusted him. More than she should have. Taking a deep breath, she leaned in and kissed him. "I trust you," Walburga whispered as she pulled back. "I always do."

"Ewww" a little boy voice proclaimed. Looking up, the woman saw her older son trotting toward them with a Gobstone in hand.

Rolling her eyes, the woman demanded; "What do you want Sirius?"

"Um..." he mumbled and then, almost shyly, he held out his hands. "Want to play mother? Father?"

Walburga looked to her other son. He stood by their incomplete game; his face just as anxious. "Shall we Orion?" She inquired as she stood.

"Yes." He agreed with a smile.

Hand in hand the couple followed their bouncing son to his and his brother's game. Maybe spending a Halloween home once in a while wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

"Sirius?"

The boy turned over in his bed. Predictably, his brother stood in his bedroom's doorway. Scrubbing at his eyes, the older boy thought to ask "What, did you wet the bed again?"

There was a silence and Sirius wondered if his teasing had actually been spot on, but before he could move another inch the younger was on his bed.

"No!" He hissed at him.

Pulling the child beside him, the dark-haired boy could see the shadows dance across his brother's edges. "Why are you here then?"

"Mother and father played with us."

Sirius yawned. "Yeah? So what?"

"They don't  _play_ Sirius, they are  _mother_ and  _father_."

Tossing an arm over the younger, the boy sighed against him. "Things are different Reg, it's weird, but I like it." _  
_

"It's 'cause they don't scold you so much, isn't it?"

He grinned into his brother's hair and poked him in the side. "Maybe just a little," he agreed. "But don't you like them better this way?"

"...What if they don't stay this way? What if they go back to being distant and puzzle-like?"

Sirius giggled. "You are  _such_ a kid!" He told Regulus, "Of course they'll go back to being like they were."

"What?"

Feeling so close to the little brother that he'd always hated too much to love, Sirius kissed his forehead. "They'll go back to being like they were, but you see, the two of us will be there to remind them why they can't be strangers to us."

"Don't you hate them Sirius? Or at least mother?" Regulus questioned.

The boy thought about this; did he still? Or had his opinion changed? He absolutely resented his mother still and thought his father was a push-over, but...something about the past few weeks had changed his opinion. They almost seemed  _human_ these days and how could he hate his mother when father was telling him stories about the days she spent in the muggle world and mother was asking him to be quiet for father because he had a migraine? In time, Sirius believed he could love them.

"I'm mad at them," he finally told his brother. "And sometimes I think they're absolutely idiotic, but...I think I could love them. Even if I will never agree with them or like them."

Regulus squirmed. "How can you love someone you don't like, Sirius?"

" _How can you love someone you don't like_?" The older mimicked in a high-pitched tone. "Well,  _you_ tell me? I think you're a bloody loser, but I love you."

"I'm not a lo-" Regulus stopped. "You  _love_ me?"

Chuckling, Sirius brought his brother beneath the duvet and mumbled; "Sleep you little brat."

" _Sirius,_ " He whined.

"Now Reg," and Sirius would listen no more to his younger brother (despite his twisting fingers and rising pitch).

* * *

Body slick atop his, she rolled along with him and gripped his shoulders. Breathing harsh, she leaned in and peppered his neck and jaw with kisses. Beneath her, Orion groaned and with sudden harshness, she bit into his neck causing him to cry out.

She felt his body shake with release and Walburga threw her head back with a cry as white flashed before her eyes. A moment later, still riding the ecstasy, the woman draped herself over Orion and curled her fingers in his chest hair.

His hand moved to rest on her rump and the other cupped the back of her neck. Feeling safe, Walburga felt now was the time to propose her idea.

"I think we should have another child."

Orion shifted. "We have  _two_ " he reminded her. "And we've already messed them up."

Sitting up, she pressed against his chest and glared at him. "It wouldn't be for  _us_ ," she grumbled. "It'd be for your sister."

"Lucretia has no interest in babies," the man frowned.

"Oh, that's what  _you_ think!" _  
_

He met her gaze in the dark. "I _know_ she has absolutely no interest in babies, children or teenagers! After what father did-!"

"I remember each and every time she held one of my and my brother's children," Walburga broke in. "She stared down at their tiny, ugly faces and said to us 'How easily they catch your breath, eh?" Orion continued to look at her uncomprehending and she sighed. "You think we are awful parents, you also believe your sister thinks she will believe herself the same...but I've seen the passion in her eyes, since we were school girls! She'd say things like: "'If I have a child, they'll never...' and 'If I am blessed with a daughter I will...'" kneading her knuckles into her husband's chest she finished decisively. "She's not getting younger Orion-nor am I. If you ever want to complete your sister's life and give her the chance to prove to herself she  _is_ better than your mother, you will give her a baby."

The man tugged her down into a hug. "You really think that's what Lucretia wants? A baby?"

"More than anything," Walburga whispered against his chest. "And now that your father's gone..."

"She will have nothing to fear in keep and raising a child."

She lifted her head to smile at her husband. "Exactly."

"I want to talk to her," he told Walburga, "But okay Wal'a, okay."

Relieved and proud of her accomplishment, she kissed him soundly on the mouth.

"Thank you."


	47. We were Still Alone

"Aunt Lucretia!" Regulus greeted joyfully as he fell into open arms. Pulling away, he accepted, quite a bit more subdue, a handshake from uncle Ignatius "Good day uncle, how do you do?"

The man chuckled and clapped his other hand over the top of their handshake. "Just fine young man! Thank you for asking!"

"You're welcome," he replied gently extracting his hand and bumping into his brother as he fell back a step. "Sirius!" He began to complain, but the other just pushed him aside to take his turn in greeting their father's sister.

"Hi aunt Lucreita, uncle Ignatius;" he said all in one breath.

His aunt curls back her brown hair and pats Sirius's cheek gently. "You're growing so big Sirius! Just think you'll be off to Hogwarts before you know it!" She looked back at Regulus then, as if she'd just recalled he hadn't left. "You too Regulus."

"Mother and father said they have stuff they wanted to talk to you about," Regulus reminded her. The woman nodded and ushered them away.

"I remember," she told them. "You boys can play with the cricket set outside while the adults talk."

Sirius dug his heels in and began to complain; "Aw! But I  _hate_ cri-"

"Come on Sirius, I'll let you take the first swing;" he spoke over his brother leaving his aunt's grip to drag him off. Usually, Regulus enjoyed his aunt's company; she was kind and doting in ways mother and father never had been, but today...well, she seemed distracted. Like whatever the reason they had come over for was far more pressing than playing the part of sweet aunt.

Taking his brother by the hand, he lead Sirius outside and almost out of view of the windows to sit beneath one of the taller trees uncle Ignatius kept in his garden. Once there, he looked to the house; catching the moving shadows of his parents and aunt and uncle. He wondered what was happening, Regulus had no recollection of such a tense meeting in all his memories.

"What do you think's happening Reg?" His older brother asked as he stretched out against the bark with a sigh. "Is it about dark stuff you think?

In fact, Regulus  _doesn't_ think what's going on has anything to do with dark stuff or Voldemort. "No," he grumbled. "It's about something different, can't you feel it Sirius? It's  _personal._ "

"How personal?"

The younger doesn't know, it's all just a feeling and so with a shake of his head, Regulus said; "I don't know."

Getting up, Sirius wiped his hands on his pants and declared; "Well, I guess we should go find out!"

Shocked by his brother's boldness when he really shouldn't be, Regulus scrambled up and ran after the elder. "You can't!" He cried.

"Why not?" Sirius demanded, sneering at him.

"It's-It's-"

Knocking him back, the dark-haired boy began to walk again. "Look, you don't have to; you're the  _good boy_  I get it. But  _I'm_ not going to stay in the dark just because  _they_ say to! I deserve to know what's happening! I have to live with them and am connected to them!"

Regulus watched for a moment.

"Wait for me!" He yelled, hands yearning as they always did for his brother's back.

* * *

"Are you sure about this Sirius?" Regulus asked fretfully as they crouched outside their uncle's study.

The older boy rolled his eyes and held up a silencing finger before his hand wen to the door knob. "Just watch," he hissed turning the metal with careful precision to reveal a treasure of information.

Inside their mother was holding their aunt's hand as their uncle paced and father talked in high, stressed tones.

"You deserve this Lucretia! I promise you'll be wonderful..."

She shook her head brought out a handkerchief to cry into. "I couldn't! I  _can't_!" Looking at her brother and sister-in-law she whispered wide-eyed; "You always are saying how troublesome the boys are...how out of depth they make you feel! Oh I'd end up just like mother! Never knowing what's a feasible thing to promise my child and I'd have no sense to when I can save them and when they are lost to me!"

Their mother, in strange tenderness, wiped a finger under Lucretia's eye and murmured; "And that is why you'd be an excellent mother, you already know where your weaknesses lay."

Ignatius turned in his pacing and sent them all a piercing look. "Why now? What's prompted you to take this course again?"

Father reached around and stroked their mother's hair from behind her chair. Eyes unbearably soft and easy to read, the boys held their breaths waiting for his answer. "We've had a break through, you could say," he admitted. "I don't know what prompted it...but, somehow, I feel that we are closer to the boys. I actually feel I could be comfortable with them in another year or so."

"I might be able to hug Sirius again," their mother mumbled with a little smile. "I can't remember doing that since he was...well, he was quite small. Two? Yes that sounds about right."

Eyes searching and fingers twisting, their aunt Lucretia demanded; "Why did you stop hugging him? What drove a wedge between you and your children?"

The couple share a look and then looked back to Orion's sister. "We never wanted them, you know."

Sirius gasped and Regulus gritted his teeth. He always felt like they hadn't been wanted, but to hear it said aloud...

"And once we had them, it was exciting and I thought maybe we just didn't know what we had wanted," she took a breath. "But then people began to  _speak_ telling us how to do things and what to do with them, how to lay them down to sleep, how often to feed them, when they should be walking, how and where we should speak to them...I think we got confused."

"More than confused Wal'a," their father broke in. "We became petrified."

The woman squeezed her husband's hand. "Yes," she agreed. "You are right. We became petrified that we would ruin them and so...we left them alone. And I-we-realize now that was the worst decision we could have ever made."

Covering her mouth, she began to tremble. "And some days! Some days I feel we will never fix what we broke in those poor boys!"

"How can you think we deserve a child then? How do you know we won't do the same?" Aunt Lucretia insisted of their parents, "What makes you think we will do better!"

Orion looked at his sister. Eyes hard. "We've told you what went wrong and you will know now not to do the same."

"Will you accept a baby from us then sister?" Walburga implored taking her sister-in-law's hand. "You deserve one, I swear you do!"

Tears spilling from her eyes, Lucretia pulled away and reached for her husband who took her hand instantly. "If you truly believe we can do it," she told her family.

Smiling, Orion and Walburga nodded. "We do Lucretia, Ignatius. You will be excellent."

"Okay," the other sobbed. "Okay, I will raise your baby as my son or daughter."

Patting Lucretia's hand, Walburga breathed a sigh. "It's not our baby anymore...it's  _yours_."

"Oh Ignatius! A baby! We're going to have a baby!" Their aunt whimpered into their uncle's shoulder. Kissing her head, the man looked at his brother and sister-in-law with solemn, but thankful eyes.

"We are my love. A baby all our own."

* * *

Closing the door again, the boys ran.

"That never happened before."

Regulus gave his brother an disgusted look. "No duh, Sirius."

Eyes wide, Sirius whispered; "We're changing thing Reg."

Uncomfortable, the younger looked shyly up at the dark-haired boy. "Do you think it's so bad though? Aunt Lucretia was always nice."

"We aren't even  _meaning_ to yet and look what's happening!" Sirius roared. "Just think! What kind of disastrous results will happen when we mess up, huh? Tell me Regulus!"

Squirming away from his older brother's hold on his shirt, the boy frowned. "Calm down, Sirius, a baby's not  _bad_."

"I don't like this."

Regulus exhaled and patted his brother's shoulder. "I don't either, but what are we to do? Tell them 'no mother and father, you can't give aunt Lucretia a baby because you didn't do that in our past timeline.'?"

"Instead of coming to me when you have nightmares, go to them."

The younger child gave his brother a disgusted look. "You aren't going to stop them from having sex that way."

"Ew! Don't  _say_ that word!"

Slapping his brother, the dark-haired boy shook his head. "Grow up Sirius!"

"We  _really_ need to be careful, though, Reg;" Sirius whispered. "Things are happening and we don't know what it could do."

Glumly, the other felt he could only agree despite his bid for optimism "Yeah," he murmured. "I know."


	48. I Might be Scared

Laid out in his bed beneath two sets of comforters, Sirius could still feel the chill and his jaw was sore from the chattering of his teeth. Twisting beneath the covers, he reached out to Regulus who was dozing not half a foot a way. Unfortunately, his younger brother kicked out and whined;

"Stop..."

Frowning the dark-haired boy made another snatch for him. "But you're  _warm_!"

"I'm too hot as it is! Stop  _touching_ me!" The younger shot back.

"No," Sirius grumbled belligerent as he began his third attempt to attach himself to his brother.

" _No_!" His brother shrilled and things may have turned into a fight beneath the bedding if it weren't for the addition of their mother. They didn't so much hear her as they did the clink of soup bowls as they made the turn into the bedroom.

Coming over, the woman scolded them. "Stop bothering your brother Sirius," she said and then to Regulus; "If you're hot, why are  _you_ the one hogging the blankets hm?"

Neither boy answered her questions, not that she'd really expected a sick eight and nine year old to anyway. Taking out her wand, she cast a warming charm on Sirius and a cooling one on Regulus before she waved the soup over. Helping the two up, she propped their unruly little bedheads up on pillows and set a tray before each of them.

"Eat up," Walburga ordered as she took out a basket of knitting to do. Sitting there, she began to stitch the yarn together as she'd been taught many years ago by her sweet neighbor, Betsy, in the muggle world*. She knew she could make these booties so much faster with magic but...that was the action of someone who did not have time or did not care about the personal touch that came with doing it all by hand. Walburga had time and  _did_ care. Her sons were sick and she'd likely stay with them until dinner at which point Orion would take over and these booties would be going to Lucretia's baby.

Her stomach did a little flip. It was her baby too, despite it all, and she would make sure it had the most lovingly made booties in existence. Her ears caught a slurping sound, shifting her gaze from the project, she saw Sirius putting the bowl to his mouth.

Whacking his hand with a needle she barked; "Stop that this instance! It is unbecoming!"

"Ouch!" Sirius yelped, dropping the bowl. Sighing, the woman vanished it away and reached out to wipe his mouth with a napkin.

"Why must you always eat like a pig?" She grumbled.

He looked at her with an annoyed glare, but then his eyes went to the project in her lap. "What are you making?" He asked with mild curiosity.

Considering her two sons, she wondered how much was too much information to tell them and what was too little. In the end, she decided being straightforward without telling them everything would be best. "I am making booties, your aunt is going to have a baby."

"Oh," Sirius responded.

"When?" Regulus inquired putting his bowl aside.

Walburga pursed her lips. There was no confirmed pregnancy yet...just a lot of hoping at this point. So, with this in mind, she replied; "Sometime next year."

"Are you staying here all afternoon mother?" Sirius questioned as he flopped back with glazed eyes. "'cause you usually don't."

Picking up her knitting, the woman pursed her lips and remarked; "Then I guess its your lucky day because I'm not leaving."

He didn't look pleased with her answer, but he was not outright scowling either. When Walburga glanced at Regulus, she found a warmer countenance gazing back at her. Feeling touched by this, she casually brushed a hand over his leg as she smoothed out the blankets; it was good to know that at least one of her sons held a fondness for her.

* * *

Getting out of bed, Sirius felt that he might be sick as he was overcome by a dizziness. This had to be the worst part about being nine. Getting sick. Kids were hit so much harder than adults it seemed...if he hadn't bit his tongue to overcome the urge to vomit, the dark-haired youth was quite certain his plan to mail a letter to James would have been ruined.

Shuffling around the bed so he can pull the envelope from beneath the mattress, his brother stirred.

"Siri..?"

Stuffing the long paper beneath his pajama top, he said to the younger; "Go back to sleep. Just mailing a letter."

He heard Regulus sigh and roll over. "Mm...'kay."

"Cool," the boy muttered as he took his leave. Taking the long hall up to where they kept the family owl in his father's study, Sirius hardly knew what to do when he saw his mother. He froze, gaping for all of a minute before darting into a shadow.

Unfortunately, his mother was always sharp and swooped down on him. Grabbing him by the arm, she hissed; "What in the world do you think you are doing Sirius? Being out of bed at this hour?!"

Struggling against the hard grip, the boy decried "You're up too!"

" _I_ am an  _adult_!" She roared back, giving him a shake. "You should be in bed! Sleeping! The lord knows what this could be doing to your condition..."

Wrenching himself free, the dark-haired boy yelled; "I feel fine now!"

"You were retching just this morning! I do  _not_ believe you've made a miraculous recovery since then!"

"Oh yeah? Well-" Sirius started, but a man's voice cut off his boyish shrill

"Wal'a?" His father called from down the hall, Regulus on his back.

"Sirius?" Regulus echoed, lifting his head from the man's shoulder.

Woman and boy looked guiltily to one another before turning to the waiting innocents.

Sirius winced at the spooked look on his brother's face. The younger must be thinking she's caught him mailing his letter.

Walburga sighed at her husband's weary features and wanted to kiss them back into brightness. He undoubtedly was wondering if something terrible hadn't happened. Putting a hand on her son's shoulder, the mother told the boy and man; "Go back to bed, I just found Sirius up and wandering when he should have been sleeping."

Looking at the son riding on his back, Orion's eyes are almost loving. "Shall I tuck you back in?"

Regulus's arms came around to hug the man around the neck. A sleepy smile toying with the edges of his lips, he nodded. "Yes father."

And the two went, leaving Walburga alone with Sirius and Sirius alone with Walburga. Looking at her eldest son, she felt even more at a loss than she had in years. If she stared hard enough, she could still see the red, scrunched face of the infant she had held crying to her breast. Her son was still her baby. Taking him by the shoulder again, she suggested;

"Let us find a place to sit."

Standoffish, the boy resisted for a moment. But with a sudden relaxing of his shoulders, allowed her to guide him away. "Somewhere warm?" He pleaded.

"Of course," The woman agreed with a smirk. Obviously, she was right. He was not nearly as well as he was attempting to be. Leading him down the hall to Orion's study, she gave her son a nudge and started the fire in the hearth with a flick of her wand. Immediately, the dark-haired boy dragged a chair to its side and sat down.

Slower, Walburga did the same. They would speak on equal terms, she had decided and as she fell into the chair, the mother lifted an eyebrow at the shivering boy. Another wave of her wand and his fidgeting stopped. She supposed it was lucky on both their parts she'd always been an ace at charms. Leaning back with a sigh, she just looked at her son and wondered.

Wondered who he would be when he grew up. A good man? Kind man? Loving man? Or...she didn't like to think about alternatives. "You remind me so much of your grandfather, you know." The woman imparted. Her son, toes pulled up on the seat cushion, leaned over his knees and raised a quizzical brow. Walburga felt the need to scold him, but held it back in favor of continuing her little comparison. "He liked to wonder in the middle of the night too. Though, he often left the house and he was just as ill-tempered..."

"'m not ill-tempered!"

She bit back a smile. "Oh?"

"Yeah! I'm  _funny_ not a jerk like-" Sirius stopped. Walburga had to sigh. Undoubtedly he was going to say "like Regulus", but for whatever reason, in the past few months he'd become more fond of the boy than he had been ever. Looking to her hands, she said to her son. "I hated my father."

There was quite.

"...Do you hate me too?"

She looked up at her son. Did she? Could likenesses eclipse the instinctual love of mothers? Walburga hadn't been sure before, but now she thought she knew. "No," she answered. "You drive me bloody insane, but I  _do_ love you."

The pair went silent then. Both feeling quite drained from the admission and ill-expressed love. Sometimes, the mother wished she'd had a better role model as a girl. Someone who hadn't feared being physical and open. Because, sometimes, that's all she thought Sirius responded to and she knew not how to be so. She would never be the doting mother she'd seen on the muggle streets of London. Or the kind one who responded to her child's every whim as she saw among her peers. Walburga was neither woman and she'd always known it. As had Orion.

But there had been no choice...

Sirius is in front of her. Eyes oddly lit.

"Mother?" He whispered.

Lips quirked, she cocked her head. "Yes Sirius?"

"Love you," he breathed into her hair; knobby knees digging into her thighs and skinny arms around her. But before she can react, he's off her and gone from the room.

Sitting there, Walburga Black began to cry.


	49. Stand Up (and Move)

"Dad?" James inquired, looking up at the man. A hand pushed back his hair and he continued to stare at the parchment he held. Frustrated, James gave his robe a tug. He was beginning to remember now that his dad did a lot work behind the scenes for the Ministry these days. "Dad!"

The stern face looked away from the paper and smiled at him. "What is it James?

"I wanna see Frank."

A furrow came to the man's brow. "Frank...?"

"You know, Longbottom?"

"Ah yes," he nodded putting the paper away in his pocket. "Did you like playing with him at the party?"

James grinned a little. He had too. "Uh-huh!" He exclaimed. "He knew a bunch about Quidditch! I thought we could fly on our brooms and play a little."

"Maybe come this weekend," his father agreed patting his head. "Now why don't you run off and play? I have work that needs to get done..."

Shoulders slumping, the bespectacled boy nodded. "Yeah, okay," he relented.

"See you at dinner Jamie," his father called as he opened the man's study door.

Stepping out, he shouted back; "Okay!" And he really did hope he saw his dad. Sometimes Jame's father would get so caught up in his work he'd forget to eat. His mum never let him go and get him either. She always told him it was best to let him finish what he was doing and then he could eat whenever he liked. Huffing as he meandered his home's many halls, James wondered how he'd survived nine the first time.

Cocking his head, he felt that he had made himself much more a nuisance. Getting into things he wasn't supposed to. Plotting elaborate pranks. Reading. Flying. Talking to his parents...well, his mother was downstairs, wasn't she? James believed she was anyway. Taking to the grand stair case, he let a hellion smirk take his mouth and hopped the banister. With a wild whoop, he rode down enjoying the feel of moving air and the thudding of his heart; once at his finish, he considered repeating the action once more, but shook his head. He wasn't a kid.

Hopping down from the rail, he went about exploring the rooms until he found the small library his parents had tucked away in a corner room. In there, he saw her brown hair hiding her face and Nettle curled in her lap.

"Mum!" He yelled into the room.

Jenna Potter jumped. Disturbing her cat and dropping her book. Her head turns, freckles prominent on pale face and a mouth open in silent exclamation. "James," she greeted. "What are you doing?"

Making his way over, the boy flops himself down on her lap and with a whiny tone said; "I'm  _bored._ " Fondly, her fingers began to scratch James behind his ears like he was the cat now glaring at him from the feet of his mother.

"What do you want me to do about it love?" She asked.

He smothered a smile. His mother had always been indulgent. Too indulgent maybe. His father as well (and so would he have been if he'd lived to see his boy grow up).

Pulling away to stand and meet her gaze he remarked; "Hogsmeade would be fun."

"I don't know James..."

He put his hands together and begged with an exaggerated pout; "Please mummy?"

"Alright, alright, I guess we could go get those new pants I was thinking about having made for you." His mother relented as she put aside his book.

Jumping on his feet, the bespectacled boy inquired; "Can we stop at the quidditch store too?"

The brunette rolled her eyes and smiled. "Of course," she answered and her eyes twinkled at little more at his happy yip. Gathering him close, she said; "Let's take the floo."

* * *

Poking around the shop as his mother talks clothes with the consultant of the day, James hummed quietly to himself as he hopped around. It was during this time that he happened up part of a newspaper. Curious he leaned in and saw the image was of Headmaster Dumbledore. Flipping it back to the front of the article, James read:

**_DUMBLEDORE FOUND MAKING REGULAR VISITS TO GRINDELWALD!_ **

The Bespectacled felt his mouth drop open. What  _was_ this? Had this happened the first time around? It couldn't of right? Surely James would have heard about it...even if it was just a little. Then did that mean something had happened? Had their time travel compatriots at Hogwarts messed something up? Or did Dumbledore have his memories? Or could it be that  _Grindelwald_ had  _his_ memories! James was kind of scared of that idea. From what little interest he'd taken in Voldemort's predecessor while in hiding, he'd learned the man had a similar idea for their world in mind. Plus, he was just as cunning. Dumbledore was crafty...could the old man hold his own against someone that was now his senior and not an equal?

With flopping stomach, he didn't think the old headmaster could. It made him feel badly to think so too, he'd always trusted him so much...

"James?" James!" His mother sighed grabbing his arm and dragging him away from the headline. "I called for you five minutes ago!" Jenna grumbled as they went to the door, a parcel in her hands. "And it was you who wanted to come to Hogsmeade!" She muttered.

Doing his best to keep up with her agitated footsteps, James apologized. "Sorry mummy! But clothes shopping is  _so_ boring!"

She looked down then, her brown hair falling in a way that it framed her round face. "Alright," she relented. "Do you still want to go to the quidditch shop?"

Did he? No. Not really. But he knew that he couldn't say no, she'd think something was wrong with him and then James's mum would get all fussy and he wouldn't be able to tell everyone else (if they didn't already know, somehow he suspected Lucius or  _someone_ was keeping tabs on the paper). "Yeah!" He cried instead, attempting to enthuse her with fake excitement.

A little smile pulled at her lips. Huh, maybe he was getting better at faking things than he thought. The idea left him feeling a little ill as they trekked to the quidditch shop. James  _liked_ being transparent (it meant he was too open for the concealing that cunning sometimes needed, it meant he wasn't Slytherin enough to warrant disapproval from his father).

Once in the shop, the boy grinned once at his mother before running off to explore the shop for a while.

* * *

_No! Don't say it's so! Do you really think he remembers?_

_If you haven't done your proper research, so help me Potter!_

_No one likes an alarmist, Potter. Chances are likely Dumbledore_ did  _hold meetings with Grindelwald during this time. Write back if things seem worrisome. Not just to_ warn  _us about a possibility. It's not worth the risk of Mr. or Mrs. Evans finding these correspondences..._

_My money's on Grindelwald. If it were Dumbledore he'd want to see us all, don't you think?_

_Good eye James, if I weren't so swamped at work..._

_Thank you for telling us, my sisters and I will be extra careful._

_Yes, we've noticed his odd comings and goings; it never occurred to us that he might be visiting Grindelwald and we gave up reading the paper_ years  _ago. We'll have to reawaken the habit to read that drivel, I suppose. Thank you._

_Sorry about Sev, James, he's just grumpy. Thank you for telling us though! It was very thoughtful. And don't listen to him either, I'll always make sure my parents don't find your letters._

James took special care of Lily's letter. Folding it away, he tucked it with the rest of them in the box underneath the loose board below his bed. Despite the joy he felt at receiving a response from her, he still felt bitter that she refused to acknowledge their son or any of the past. He wished he could see her. If only to confront Lily on why she was so intent on forgetting their baby.

It also kind of made him wonder just what everyone was doing to miss the news. Surely the professors or Augusta should have picked up on it. If not from the paper itself, from their colleagues. Gnawing on a hangnail, James felt that maybe he should begin to swipe his father's paper after breakfast every morning. No one else seemed to care about keeping an eye on the media. Just because idiots ran it didn't mean it was completely devoid of substance.

Nodding to himself as he began to tear the rest of the letters to pieces, James decided he would be their eyes for the media accounts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can anyone connect the letter clips to the right person? *Hint* James only sent one letter to the Black bros, Black sisters and the Professors *Hint*


	50. And the Fire is Growing

"James!" Frank yelled happily.

Grinning back at the other boy, James stepped away from the excess of his father's robes and said; "Hey Frank."

"My mum said you could spend the night if your father said it was alright," his friend told him as he took him by the arm so he could turn to send his father an adequate pout.

Augusta coming up behind them, put a hand on both their shoulders and with a fretful inflection told James's doubtful father; "I am sorry John I was talking with Frank about what my friends and I did when we were his age and somewhere in that conversation I mentioned staying over at one another's houses over night and..."

"He'd like to do the same," John finished for her with a grin. "You know what, James doesn't get to spend much time with other children, I think it's a brilliant idea." Crouching down so his crowfeet framed eyes are all that James saw, he asked softly; "What do you say sport? Would you like to have a sleepover?"

"Yeah!" James agreed with an enthusiastic bobbing of his head. "That'd be wicked dad!"

A happy glint to his eye, his father ruffled his hair and stood back up. "I'll tell your mother," he told James and then leaned over the top of him and Frank to shake hands with Augusta; "Thanks Augusta."

Looking up, he saw the woman's lips quirk just a bit. "It's no trouble John."

"None the less," and with a bit of a smile James's father took his leave. "Jenna will come for him, say ten?"

"Excellent," Frank's mother agreed and with that, his father left.

He felt a tugging on his sleeve, looking sideways, James realized it was Frank. "So what should we do first?" His friend asked.

"Dunno, exploding snaps?"

Frank's hand slipped away from his sleeve only to grab a hold of his own hand. "I have that in my room! C'mon!" Frank exclaimed and a moment later they were darting off somewhere into the house. James knew he should wait, Augusta and him had all night to find a time to talk about things (and maybe then he could ask if she could help him see Lily), but he looked back.

_Later_

She mouthed at him and James accepted what he had to.

* * *

Playing with Frank, James found, was actually kind of exhilarating. His young friend seemed to be just as lonely as he was in someways, while talking over exploding snaps; the boy mentioned that he didn't see many other kids and that'd he be happy if they had a sleepover at James's the next time they met up. But unlike James who was taught by tutors and sometimes his mother when she wasn't in a melancholy mood, Frank was taught almost exclusively by his father who enjoyed taking him out to see things-magical and muggle alike-and so Frank was well-exposed to the world.

("You know what'd be fun James? Going to the Eiffel Tower together! I saw it once with my dad, it's so  _tall_!")

Plus, Frank wasn't a half-bad hider for hide-and-seek.

By the end of the night, the bespectacled boy had to admit he was actually kind of  _tired_. He didn't know if it was because of his kid-body or just from all the action he'd participated in today with Frank. Sometimes, even though he was nine too, James couldn't help but think this is what his days would have been filled with if he'd lived to see Harry at nine. They'd spend their days playing too.

It hurt to know he didn't and at this rate, likely  _wouldn't_ get to play exploding snaps and hide-and-seek with Harry. James really needed to talk with Lily. And not about stuff they were doing  _now_ , because maybe her days were interesting and diverse-what with Snape and that Cresswell kid, but James days weren't like that and all he could do was dwell on Harry and everything that had gone wrong.

When he saw Pettigrew, James was going to spit on him. Be damned what consequences it could have.

"James?" The bedroom door open farther and the boy turned his head. In the dim light from the hall, he could see a smile playing on Augusta's features. "Are you both asleep?" She murmured.

Slipping out from Frank's arm, the bespectacled boy went to the woman's side. "No."

She chuckled and drew him away from the bedroom. "We have a little while until my husband gets back from visiting his grandparents; will you join me in my study?"

"Yeah," and together they walk down the well-furbished hall to a room at the end. Coming in, James notes the piles and piles of papers and books that cover every free surface; the open window that allows incoming and outgoing mail, the portrait of Augusta's family beside said window. She's a busy woman. Turning to her, he smirked. "Is your office always so messy?"

Her face lifted briefly with humor only for it to fall away and a worrying fear to replace it. "No, but we've been  _extremely_ busy in the office these days...I bring so much home now that I'm lucky that I was able to spend the day keep an eye on you two at all. Usually-bless his soul-my husband takes care of Frank."

"So...what do you think is causing this?"

She sat down in what had to be the only free chair in the study. "Sometimes I think things must have always been this busy...but then I don't remember having  _this_ much work in my study when Frank wasn't even in Hogwarts!" And with tearful eyes, Augusta reached out and pet his hairless cheek. "I fear for who could be out there James. And if Dumbledore is conversing with Grindelwald..."

"You need help." James stated. "Like a lot of it."

Augusta sighed. "But who? Who can we trust? I certainly don't know."

"I know I wasn't an auror, but surely there's someone in that office you can trust to help you! Like one of the Prewetts, you know they're a loyal bunch." James offered both with hope and desperation. "We can't have people who shouldn't be dying, dying."

"Gideon isn't even out of Hogwarts yet and Fabian just finished his auror training and while they'll be an excellent pair in a few years..."

"They can't help us now." James whispered.

Augusta can't help but bring the dejected boy into a hug. It's more than obvious that he wants to help, he wants to be of use, but..."You know James, you keeping an eye on the papers is actually very helpful. It might not feel like it, but you're doing a great service to all of us."

"I bet," the bespectacled boy grumbled against her shoulder and Augusta felt for him. How hard this must be for a man who always wanted to be a part of the action, sitting back was not a James Potter plan of action.

Sighing, she pulled him back to meet his gaze. "Is there anything I can do for you James?"

"I want to see Lily," he told her. His small fingers dug into her hand. "Please."

She didn't know when she'd have time...Augusta nodded. "I promise, by the end of the month I will have found a way for you two to see each other."

"Thanks," he told her with a smile. "I really need to see her, she won't write to me about anything that matters." A scowl overtook his young face. "All she talks about is what her and Snape are doing. Sometimes about her sister too."

Augusta didn't know why the girl wouldn't talk to James about what it was that he felt mattered, maybe Lily felt it wasn't safe to write it down or that it wasn't appropriate for letters...but Augusta could see it was hurting this young man a lot more than he was saying.

"Oh James..." she murmured. Bringing him close, she let him just stay there as she pet his hair. "I'll get you to see her as soon as I can and you know what else?"

He didn't say anything, but his eyes peeked up at her and she fought back a grin. "I'm going to start making a list of trustworthy people and see if I can't divulge something to them. We need help taking out whoever is doing this sooner than later."

James pulled away from her then, a relieved smile toying with his lips. "Thanks Augusta, you're really great."

"You're welcome James."


	51. I Will Harbor you

The boy twisted in his sheets, gasping; he stilled for a moment only for his legs to kick up his duvet and send it all the way to the edge of his bed. Young face scrunching with miserable fear and a touch of fury, he opened his mouth for a strangled cry to be let loose;

"N-Nooo!"

Biting her fingers, Jenna watched her son's nightmare continue. James began to claw at his shirt, a keening noise starting in the back of his throat. He flopped to his side; sobbing out a garbled name. "Li-Li-Li-Luh-eeeeeeeee!" He shrieked and with a sudden burst of terror in her own heart, the mother cast a silencing spell on the door.

They didn't need to wake John. He thought these nightmares had ended months ago...and if he were to find out she'd been hiding this, well, Jenna shivered. John hated being left in the dark more than he hated blood bigots. But looking at her weeping son, the mother knew she could not allow her husband to know about this. He'd want him seen by some mind specialist...Jenna realized she had wanted the same in the beginning - no - even more than John, but now? Now she realized it was not a curse or spell or even a poison that was doing this to her James.

Something had happened to her baby over the summer. Something  _awful_. She'd begun to piece it together these last couple months, since that first night - the one where he had screamed like someone ( _he_ ) was dying; Jenna had figured out someone  _had_ died.

"S-Save Harry..." James murmured in his sleep, a hiccuping sob following his plea. It hurt to know she couldn't touch her baby; but the mother feared to greatly his waking to even attempting soothing him.

She didn't know who this "Lily" was or who "Harry" was either. But they mattered to her son. Jenna often wondered how James had met them; had he wondered through some portal in the garden and into another dimension? It seemed unlikely, but such things were known to happen from time to time. That also brought up the question of how long he'd been in this portal-world. A few hours? Days?  _Years_? Was her little boy not so little anymore? She had to bite back a sob at that.

James was supposed to be her little star. Bright, beautiful and always joyous; but it seemed that wish would go unfulfilled. Instead his childhood would be troubled by these people of a portal-world and he would grow up lonely and wanting (as she had upon her brother's death).

Bending down, the mother dared to brush a hand through James's bangs. He stirred but did not wake. Miracle of all miracles, his body relaxed and he exhaled as if the nightmare had been cast off by her small touch. Jenna was made to marvel at the sight of her hand then, was it her touch or simply human touch that calmed her son? How she wished it was her fingers that brought him relief...but something aching and knowing told the mother it was not her, but whoever her son imagined in his mind that made the pain stop.

"Lily..." James sighed; it was as if he knew Jenna's train of thought, she mused. Stepping back, the mother bit her fingernails at having an answer that was not what she wanted. She had lost the love of her son, his eyes were for this "Lily" and no one else. Taking herself from her son's room, Jenna tried to make herself feel better with a single thought.

If she was no longer her son's connotation of love, her husband was no longer the image that came to James when he thought the word "hero".

* * *

As she crawled into bed, John turned to her; eyes open. "Where were you?" He demanded.

"I couldn't sleep," Jenna told him as she slipped beneath her sheets. "It's nothing new."

He seemed to hesitate for a brief moment, but then his arm was around her waist. "It seems to be happening more lately..."

"Maybe," The wife agreed upon resting her head on his shoulder. "But I can always take a kip during Jamie's lessons tomorrow."

Kissing her cheek, the man whispered; "Since we're both up..."

"Oh alright," Jenna agreed with a roll of her eyes; "Just - can we make it quick? I would like to try and sleep a little tonight."

He peck her lips. "Of course love," and eagerly, he pushed the sheets back and worked his hands under her nightgown to pull off her panties. Removed from the proceedings below, the wife's thoughts once more drifted to her son. Would he marry someday? Or had this "Lily" and "Harry" scarred him to the point that he would shirk away from intimate relations of any kind. She truly hoped not, Jenna would admit to anyone that she looked forward to the day she'd get to bounce another baby in her arms.

James had been born late in their marriage and with all the complications she'd had during pregnancy (from morning sickness to James being in transverse position), they'd decided an heir was more than enough. There wasn't any need for a spare. The wife was startled into giving a breathy sigh as John pushed into her and for a moment, she found herself distracted as Jenna worked her arms around his neck to get into the rhythm of their lovemaking; once the task was done, she thought wistfully of the little girls she saw at Hogsmeade and elsewhere.

Sometimes the wife wished for a little girl. One who she could confide girlish things in, converse with about Shakespear and teach the language of the flowers - as she had often done with her mother when India's heat hadn't left Jenna's mother "indisposed". But it seemed the wish would always be unfulfilled, she was unhappy to admit.

Jenna could not safely carry another infant (especially not at her age) and John was dead-set against adopting any children. It didn't matter to him that the orphanages seemed to be taking in new wards everyday now, all he cared about was what their circle would think if they took in a child. Undoubtedly, he said, they would think they were incapable of having another child themselves.

Sometimes, the wife understood why her father had so eagerly run to India in his youth. England was unbearably judgmental and trying to do "good" more often than not brought sneers. You could  _not_ take in a child of unrelated blood without whispers, you could  _not_ be friends with the help because elves were not people and most of all, you could not run barefoot through the land with your skirt hiked up to your knees due to others believing it was disgustingly uncouth. It didn't matter if it made you feel free, weightless and young; here in England you either played by their rules or you should be ready to face isolation.

Hugging her husband close as he came inside her, Jenna found she missed the India of her youth more with each passing day. It was too bad travelling to the past so long ago was impossible.


	52. Our Choices

Bellatrix had thought about killing Glinda that night, she knew things that could kill her anyway, so why not do it now? When Bellatrix could make it merciful. However, still reeling from fate's vision, the teenager had seen that Glinda, her seven husbands and son were needed yet; they needed to be for a higher purposes that she'd only caught snatches of to occur. So instead, the curly-haired girl had walked to the beauty and put a hand to her friend's mouth...

_"Say no more."_

_Her eyes had glittered frightened as she pulled away. "You said awfully frightening things, Bella. Are you a seer?"_

_"No," Bella had laughed. "But I am damned still."_

_Glinda took the hand that Bellatrix had left suspended in the air. "Let me help you," she begged._

_"Okay."_

_"Okay?" The teenager's friend echoed with doubt._

_Bringing her close and kissing her pretty cheek, Bella whispered. "I need you."_

_Glinda jerked back, mouth open and eyes filling with tears. "You-" her breath hitched. "You actually_ mean  _that, don't you?"_

_"I wouldn't say it otherwise."_

Walking down the halls on her way to lunch, Bellatrix began to think about everything. Since that night, Glinda had proven to be immensely helpful; while Bellatrix had explained to her they could not talk about the garbled things that the curly-haired girl had said during her episode, Bella had agreed to taking Glinda's help in figuring out a strategy to avoid the coming event of Christmas holiday. So far, nothing was quite perfect enough for execution and the teenager felt that receiving the Dark Mark and killing a muggle girl was inescapable as start date of Holidays drew nearer and nearer.

"Bella!" Glinda called sweeping forward and taking her hand. "Let's go for a stroll, hm?"

Looking to Rodolphus waiting for her by the Great Hall, Bellatrix felt a sudden twinge of shame. He was trying to get to know her, to understand her, but here she was rebuffing him at every turn..."Let me inform Rodolphus," she said to her friend.

A flicker like jealousy rose up in the witch's eyes. "Fine," she agreed in a curt tone. "Like he'll even notice your absence."

"He  _will_ ," Bellatrix snapped as she broke away. "Now excuse me," and with that, went to thick-necked teen wearing a sultry smile. "Hello Rodolphus dear," she cooed. "I think we'll have to scratch our lunch plans; Glinda has invited me for a  _stroll_."

The boy's eyes went to the beauty before they came to rest on her once again. "Didn't you do the same yesterday? And the day before that?" He was sounding impatient and angry now, Bellatrix would have to fix this quick if she didn't want to cause a scene. Leaning forward, she pecked his lips and darted back with a grin.

"I'll make it up to you tonight, alright? Meet me in the commons after midnight." She told him.

His fingers on his lips, the strong features softened as he smiled - thrilled - "Really?" He asked. "Just you and me?"

"Yes!" She chortled as she spun away to meet up with Glinda once more.

"See you then!" He called after, but Bellatrix did not turn around again. Instead she linked arms with the pouting witch and teased her with a little pinch to the forearm.

"Oh don't look at me like that!" She scolded lightly. "We  _are_ betrothed."

Worrying her pretty cupid-bow lips, Glinda whispered; "I thought you didn't like him."

"Not a lot," Bella agreed easily as they too their exit from the castle. "But I can't say he's an awful boy. He wants things to work out for our marriage even more than I do, I think!"

Glum, the teenager hanging on to the curly-haired girl sighed. "I was hoping when you said you needed me that meant you were  _done_ with him..."

"I'm sorry Glinda," the witch apologized. "I  _need_ you, but not like that;" Bellatrix replied. "No, you are very clever - more than you have to be with looks like yours and I..." she searched the beauty's face, hoping she'd understand, "I don't want to be the Lord's servant. He  _scares_ me, I just can't be his. Just can't."

Touching her face tenderly, Glinda nodded. "I'll help you," she whispered. "I love you Bella."

If she could have, the teenager would have cringed. She did not like the idea of someone loving her; much less declaring it. Bellatrix could barely convince herself that she was going to live past holidays, the entanglement of love only proved to depress her more. The awful thought of crushed hearts making her feel guilty and undeserving of her second chance.

Instead of acknowledging the declaration with one of her own, the curly-haired teen instead asked her friend; "D'you think there's a spell that makes it  _look_ like someone is dead or has died instead of actually killing them? Maybe if I used a spell like that I could go to the Aurors after the initiation..."

The beauty gaped for a moment, disappointment clear, but with a sad little breath she nodded along to Bellatrix's new plan. "There might be a spell like that, we'd have to break into the restricted section."

"Quite right," Bella concurred. "I bet we could do it tomorrow night."

Frowning at the ground as they walked, Glinda bitterly muttered; "Why can't we do it tonight?"

"You  _know_ why," the curly-haired witch replied half-exasperated, half-sorry.

* * *

Professor Flitwick nodded at his student. "Excellent job young man," he praised the blunt-faced youth.

Grinning, the boy cancelled the shrinking charm and took a step aside. "Thank you sir," he replied. "I really appreciate you taking a bit of time to go over it again with me...it's hard and my roommates weren't able to tell me what I was doing wrong so I could fix it and do it right."

"It was no trouble Mr. Yaxley," The little man grinned. "It's always satisfying to watch you students accomplish things you set your mind to." And it was just as satisfying to see that a young would-be-Death-Eater still felt comfortable coming to him for help. Maybe these children weren't as lost as he and Horace had feared.

Smiling back, the boy appeared that he could have said more, but Flitwick felt an unwelcome presence and looked up to see Dumbledore hovering in the doorway. "Hello headmaster," he greeted.

Eyes twinkling, Dumbledore nodded. "Good afternoon Professor Flitwick, Mr. Yaxley."

Suddenly stiff, the boy croaked "headmaster."

Bringing his hands together, the old man remarked "I have things I need to discuss with professor Flitwick, Mr. Yaxley; if you mind...?"

"No sir," the boy replied gather up his books and things. Heading quickly for the door, he looked back to thank the small man; "Thank you professor Flitwick for taking the time to go over that spell with me again."

Winking, the professor chuckled; "I always enjoy helping my students do well, so never hesitate to come in young man!"

"I won't," Mr. Yaxley agreed, deep-set eyes glancing to Dumbledore before he darted away from the classroom.

Coming forward then, the headmaster took a seat at the desk that the young would-be-Death-Eater had occupied. "Good day Filius," he greeted warmly.

"Sir," the small man returned with mixed feelings. He had avoided the old man as he could these past few months, but he'd also longed to speak with him equally in that time. The feelings he held for the old headmaster were confused, part of him was happy to see him relatively well and whole, angry at all he'd done and another piece of him simply wanted understanding of things he did believe he'd find even now.

Settling back on his desk, Flitwick smiled. "What has brought you by?"

"I've been meaning to talk to you for months, actually, but only just recently was I spurred into action."

Leaning forward, the small professor mumbled "oh?"

"Yes," Dumbledore hummed as he slipped a lemon drop into his mouth. "You see, early this summer, I was alerted that you used an unfamiliar charm - or at least what I believe had to be a charm - it caused a buzzing sound in a nearby portrait's ear as you spoke with Horace and then yesterday, I was told about the same thing - this time a student, one of the Black sisters, using it too." Blue eyes searching, the headmaster demanded; "What spell is this?"

Filius's mouth was dry with fear. How..? Of  _course_ Dumbledore had had spies in the school - and not all of them wizards. The portraits were everywhere and were sentient enough to keep an eye on the students...swallowing, the professor forced a smile. "It's quite new, I just recently created the spell. Over my vacation while I was visiting family, I call it  _muffliato._ And I admit I've taught it to a few students on a sparse basis...but I hadn't realized you would be so curious about it."

Shuffling a few loose sheets of parchment Mr. Yaxley had left behind, the old man made a low sound. "From what I've heard, it seems like a very useful charm - I was wondering, would you mind teaching me it?"

Flitwick gave a little laugh. "Of course sir!" He agreed happily. It was simply a relief to know Dumbledore's intentions at this point were more innocent than conniving.

 


	53. An Ordinary Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Allusion and talk of sexual child abuse this chapter.

"I think we must actually be nimrods," Glinda grumbled as the two witches sneaked through the castle's halls. "We could have just gotten a note from a professor to look at the books!"

Shushing the beauty, Bellatrix hissed "shut your trap!" Her friend gave her a scandalized look before puckering her lips into a pout. Rolling her eyes at Glinda's childish behavior, the teenager grumbled; "If we had asked for permission, we would be watched carefully - you don't think students haven't looked at other things while they were in the restricted section, have you?"

"I guess," Glinda agreed with reluctance. "But if we had gotten a note from the defense professor..."

Bellatrix shook her curly tresses. "He hates me."

"Well he doesn't hate  _me_ ," the other witch declared.

Giving the other a once over, the teenager remarked; " _No_ man hates you Glinda."

Shoulders shaking with contained mirth, Bella's fellow Slytherin batted her dark lashes. "Oh I  _know_."

"For saying you love me, you're such a tease Glinda;" Bellatrix remarked as they paused at the turn into the hall that lead to the library.

Her friend went still and her pupils dilated. "I could stop," she offered. "I'd do anything for you Bellatrix."

"Sorry," Bellatrix sighed; "But there's not chance for us." Averting her eyes from the crushed form of Glinda, Bella cleared her throat and whispered "no one is around, let's hurry!"

For a moment, the teenager feared the beauty would refuse, but with a quiet sniffle, Glinda grabbed on to her offered hand and Bella ghosted them down the hall and into the library. Eyes darting around the shelves and shadows, Bellatrix fretted for a moment. "Do you think Filch's damn cat or McGonagall could be in here?"

Letting her hand go so she could come to stand beside her, the other Slytherin replied; "I don't know, I guess we should just keep our eyes open."

"Right," Bellatrix sighed. This was not what she wanted to hear...but it wasn't like she was going to turn back  _now_. So with light feet, she lead them through the library and upon coming to the restricted section she lifted the flimsy rope separating it from the rest of the library. Stepping aside to let Glinda pass her, the teenager remarked; "You think they'd put an age restriction spell or something on this!"

"That's Hogwarts for you!" Glinda chuckled.

Her own lip twitching, Bella agreed "indeed!" Looking to the shelves, she said thoughtfully "I think we should begin with dark spell books, don't you?"

"I can start on the left and meet you in the middle," the beauty offered as she ran her fingers over the spines of some of the books.

Picking out a hopefully useful title, Bellatrix nodded. "Works for me."

* * *

Drinking in the safety of Slughorn's over-stuffed study, Flitwick muttered, "He uses the portraits to spy on students  _and_ us, did you ever realize he did such a thing before?"

Looking at his glass of wine with gritty eyes, the rotund man felt slight repulsed by his drink. The lights made it look a little too dark...a little too much like blood. Flicking his wand to increase the the intensity of the kerosene lights above, Slughorn muttered; "It's quite ingenious, you must admit. Very Slytherin too."

"He was in  _Gryffindor_  Horace!" The diminutive man cried. "He shouldn't be so sly!"

Looking at his fellow professor over his drink, Slughorn raised an eyebrow. "And one would think with my penchant for parties I would have belonged to Hufflepuff! We've been alive long enough to know your house does not tell us who you are - just what traits are strongest."

Settling back down, Flitwick grumbled "He certainly is  _foolhardy_ enough for all Gryffindor - and then some."

"There you are!" the rotund man chuckled. "A sense of humor is a much better thing to have than a stream of gripes."

Studying Horace, Flitwick shook his head. "I try and stay positive as well...but how are you coping Horace? I can't imagine it's easy for you to see all your children and have their darkly robed, masked selves in mind as you do."

"It's awful," Slughorn whispered as he slumped in his chair. "I don't know if I can save even half of them let alone all of them; their families are far too steeped in the supremacy in some cases and a few - the Carrow children especially - are already horribly warped. Sometimes I think I should just find a way to murder all the little brutes and find somewhere I can hide them in the castle."

"That's rather...violent," the diminutive man mumbled.

Staring at his lap, the other whispered "I hate them. All of Slytherin."

"Horace..."

A knocking came from the door. Vanishing their glasses, Flitwick called whoever resided on the other side in. It was a girl, hair matted to her little skull; barely decent in her thin yellow nightie and Slytherin robe.

Getting up from his seat, Slughorn asked; "What is it Sadie?"

"'kenzie's b-bleeding," she whispered with trembling voice.

Striding toward the door, the rotund man asked for clarification; "Mackenzie Bulstrode?"

Keeping on the heels of her head of house as he passed her, Sadie replied "yessir."

"Let me come with Horace," Flitwick suggested lightly as he hurried after them.

Face grim, the man looked down on his diminutive friend and said; "You won't like what happens next."

"I'm still coming."

He shrugged. "So be it."

* * *

Coming into the girls' first year dormitory, Flitwick can't say he's surprised to see all the other girls are awake- some still in their beds, a few hiding what had to be the sobbing Bulstrode girl - going over to the bed, Slughorn pushes the girls aside and demanded

"What's hurting Mackenzie?"

Seeing now the awful, unusually large stain of red that was surrounding the young girl; Flitwick understands what Slughorn meant. This would not be pretty.

Looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes, the girl moaned "Down  _there_."

"Have your parents told you about how babies are made?" Slughorn asks while he tucks the blankets around her so he can pick her up.

The round-faced girl gave him a venomous glare. "I've had it more than  _told_ to me and I know this isn't my-ah!" She screamed.

"Hush child, I'm going to get you to madam Pomfrey; she'll take great care of you."

Whimpering as she went limp, the Bulstrode glare touched her middle. "It's too soon," she warbled.

"I know, I know," Slughorn sighed as he whisked her away.

Flitwick didn't try to follow then. Instead, he tried to recall Mackenzie Bulstrode. She'd been a heavy-set, meek girl who seemed happiest in the back of the class and smiling at boys who looked her way. He could recall that she'd dropped out of school at around sixteen and he hadn't an idea of what happened to her until years later when Millicent came to school - looking just as her mother had.

With heavy heart, the diminutive man wondered if this was the reason why...

* * *

"You need to remove her from her father's care." Slughorn insisted as madam Pomfrey went about cleaning up the mess from tonight's commotion.

Vanishing the bloody sheets and some towels, she frowned at him. "And then where is she to go? I understand what-" she choked on what could only be a sob. "what happened tonight and  _who_ caused it. But she would only end up in an orphanage where she would not get the education she's getting now."

"She'll never get to finish her education!"

The nurse looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?" She demanded.

"I mean," Slughorn stopped. Taking a breath, he said; "If this happens again she's not going to stay in school."

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Who would take her in Horace? She's not pureblood, the Blacks would never take her..."

"I'll take her," the rotund man declared without registering what he was saying. "For god's sake, she could  _be_ something if she didn't have to go home to that  _monster_!" _  
_

Turning around, the woman looked him in the eye. "You are a good soul Horace," she remarked. "I will speak to the headmaster in the morning." Then with lowered eyes, she leaned in and pecked his cheek. "Just remember you can't save them all."

Standing there as she passed him by on her way to check on the girl, the man ran a hand down his face and whispered "I know."


	54. Make it Better

By morning's early light, Bellatrix felt more than just the grit of a sleepless night in her eyes. Ducking out of the library with Glinda yawning at her side, she felt like an absolute failure. Here she was, more than the seventeen years she appeared and  _still_ she hadn't the slightest clue to what she was doing. Her mission to find a spell had been an absolute failure and if she didn't figure out something soon, either an innocent girl was going to die or one of her sisters was going to take up an unexpected future.

Neither path was acceptable. Not in the slightest.

Coming round to the Slytherin dorms, she and Glinda had barely made it up to their dorm before she was grasping for a pillow to muffle her mouth as she had done as a girl. Falling to the side of her bed, she put her trembling lips to the crisp fabric and let her hair cloak her face as she sobbed. Glinda not far behind, knelt beside her and rested a fluttering hand on her shoulder.

"Are you..." she stopped. "Bella," she eventually sighed as Glinda hugged her close.

And for a time, she was happy to allow the closeness. Things were terribly, wickedly out of control and it was nice to feel that there was someone who supported her. Once Bellatrix felt in control again, she separated herself from Glinda and cleaned away the errant tears with the edge of her pillow.

"Do you want to talk about it Bella?" Glinda asked with a gentle touch.

She laughed beneath her breath. What was there to talk about? Either she found the spell or someone's life was ruined ( _again_ ). Looking into the worried eyes of her one true friend and ally, Bellatrix shrugged. "I don't know that there's much to say, Glinda."

"So it is all about the spell?"

Bellatrix nodded. "Yes, because if I don't find a spell..." she let the thought hang loosely in the air between them. Let Glinda picture what she would, she had no interest in sharing a tale about a dead eyes and masks or about crying sisters and ruined loves.

"That - that bad stuff will happen, won't it?" Glinda inquired in a trembling voice.

"Yeah," she sighed; "yeah it will."

Slim fingers grasping at hers, Bellatrix's friend declared "We can try again tomorrow eve! Or better yet, let me write my father! I'm sure he could procure something for us if I told him it was for defense..."

A sudden kindling of hope coming to her heart, she met Glinda's gaze. "You'd do that?" She whispered, "for me?" And then with doubtful thoughts creeping in to her mind, she turned her head and demanded "What do you want in return?"

Bellatrix's friend shook her head. "Really Bella, I just want to  _help_. I love you."

"No," she insisted. "You don't."

Glinda glared at her, "don't tell me what I feel!" She snapped.

"I'm telling you the truth!" Bellatrix growled. "What you feel is a silly girlish crush! It will go away!"

Standing up in one long sweep, the girl walked away. "This conviction you hold is  _silly_!" She argued.

"Where are you going!?" Bellatrix called after, gut twisting with worry.

Glinda turned her head back, disgust clear. "Away from  _you_!" she yelled; waking their roommates fully from their stirrings.

Slack mouthed, she was forced to watch the retreating form of Glinda as she left her for some place only fate could possibly see.

* * *

Slughorn sat beside Mackenzie as they waited for Madam Pomfrey, the Headmaster and Head Mistress to show. The young girl, pale and swaying slightly where she sat, turned to the rotund professor.

"Why are you doing this sir? I didn't ask for you to."

He looked into her round face and saw a look hundreds of other children after - and before - her had worn. "Because it is one of the few things I know is  _right_."

Mackenzie averted her eyes. "Sir, I'm not special..." she whispered.

"Oh dear," he murmured as he took of her hands between his. "Ms. Bul -  _Mackenzie,_ it does not matter how talented you are or how quick or sly or - or -" he stopped. Gut churning, Slughorn sighed. "You are hurt and I will not see you injured further."

The girl opened her mouth, yet it her reply would go unvoiced as it was blocked by the Headmaster's greeting.

"Horace, and Ms. Bulstrode," he said in a grave tone as he approached with Pomfrey and McGonagall on either side.

Nodding as he scooted aside to make room for the three, Slughorn mumbled "Sir, madams."

"How are you feeling dear?" Pomfrey inquired with a swish of her wand over Mackenzie.

The girl, much more timid than just a moment before, tucked her hands beneath the blankets and whispered "Just fine, thank you."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and drew Mackenzie's eyes to his own. "Do you understand what is happening young lady?" He inquired.

"Professor Slughorn has offered to be my guardian."

Bring his gnarled hands together, Dumbledore hummed. "And why is that Ms. Bulstrode?"

Dropping her eyes to the pristine blankets covering her, Mackenzie's voice turned to a tremor; "b-because my father d-did th-things..."

"Things?" Dumbledore pressed as carefully as he could. Glancing about, Slughorn saw madam Pomfrey biting her knuckles and the headmistress writing down everything that was being said with a very deep scowl upon her features.

Looking up then, completely livid, the girl growled "I know you know,  _sir_ , do I really need to spell it out too?"

A stern look from the headmaster and headmistress was her answer.

Deflating completely, Mackenzie turned her cheek. "He had sex with me, alright? The kind that leads to the baby that I lost."

"And how do you know what sex is? Did your father explain it to you?"

The poor girl drooped further, fingers twisting and turning beneath the blankets that covered her. "I didn't know at first. I just thought it was a way a father showed his love...but then I was looking through books in our library; I found one that explained what it was father and I did." Her wide eyes darted to them. "That's how I figured out what we did wasn't okay - or normal."

Rubbing at the spot between his eyes, Dumbledore sighed. "Now, Ms. Bulstrode, this next question might seem, well,  _idiotic,_ but understand I must ask this: do you want to continue living with your father?"

"No!" She spat. "Isn't that why professor Slughorn offered to be my guardian? So I wouldn't have to go back to him?"

The headmaster nodded. "Yes it is," he agreed. "Then you _do_ want him as your guardian? We could look into other relatives-"

"Professor Slughorn will do," she cut in with much more confidence than before. Looking to him, her round face took on a fleeting smile. "I know I'm not much, sir, but you won't regret becoming my guardian."

Gazing at the pale, round face that stared back with such determination; Slughorn believed her. "I'm sure I won't;" he concurred.

Clapping his hands, Dumbledore glanced back to the headmistress. "Excellent," he murmured with a wan smile. "Would you say that's enough Minerva?"

Checkin over her scrawl, the woman nodded. "She knows what happened to her, understands it was wrong and wants to stay with Horace; that should be plenty to take custody away from Mr. Bulstrode. And if he's smart, he won't fight it either."

Slughorn let go of a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and likely wouldn't have if a smaller hand hadn't grabbed his. Looking to Mackenzie, he witnessed her smiling like the sun.

(Victory).


	55. Chapter 55

Helping her mother put up the red and green garland along the fire place, Lily sighed at the expression Severus was wearing. Leaning close to him as she stretches oneway, she hissed, "What's got you in a tizzy  _now_?"

Severus blinked. "Tiz-" blinking once more, he said, "I'm not in any tizzy! I just didn't know your family was the kind that was into Christmas."

Lily almost felt like saying sorry to him, but then her mother called, "Love, your side's drooping!"

Fixing the garland, Lily apologized instead to her mother, "Sorry."

"You can talk to Severus in just a moment - actually, Severus, dear, will you get the stockings from the box behind you?"

The boy didn't give any verbal reply, but he did as directed and gathered up the patchwork stockings. "What would you like me to do with them?" He asked.

"I'll take them, thank you," the woman smiled as she began to arrange the stockings on the mantle. "You'll have to tell me what colors you'd like for yours, Severus, I need to make you one," she remarked.

"I-erm," Severus sputtered, Lily thought it may have been funnier if she didn't know why he seemed so shocked by the idea. "Anything's okay, really," he answered meekly.

Giving him a once-over, Mrs. Evans looked to her daughter, "Lily, what are his favorite colors?"

"Green, blue," the girl replied before thinking too hard about what her mother was doing.

Satisfied, Lily's mother shooed them out. "Thank you for helping, loves, why don't you go see what Dirk's doing? Maybe the three of you can go play at the park today. It's not raining."

Sighing at the dismissal, the redhead lead them out of the room and to the front hall where they grabbed their coats and headed out."

Once a short distance from the house, Severus demanded, "Are we going to actually go to the park or are we going to do something more important today?"

"I have some letters that need mailing," Lily admitted. "How about you?"

Rubbing at his forehead, the boy admitted, "I do have one for Bellatrix. She asked me how feasible it would for her to become a spy and if there's a way to make it look like you've killed someone without actually killing them."

"Is she scared?" The girl inquired.

Blinking large dark eyes, Severus furrowed his brow at her and answered, "I would assume so. She's not the Bellatrix that she was when she became a Death-Eater the first time, she's more like...Regulus. He only became one because his family wanted him to, you know."

"Regulus..." Lily hummed. "He always seemed meek, in school, like he didn't want trouble."

Walking toward the trees where they did their mailing to the wizarding world, Severus remarked, "That's about right. He mentioned once that he wanted to work as a teacher or professor, but wouldn't because it's not what his parents thought was appropriate for a Black to do with their lives."

Lily musingly carded through her letters and said, "Why didn't he rebel like Sirius?"

"Sirius is an idiot, I hope you realize," Severus grumbled. "He was so focused on being different that he threw all repercussions to the wind and for it, he got to spend twelve years in Azkaban and ended up dead two years later because he continued to be reckless. Regulus was...sensible. He knew what senselessness got you - still does, I bet. You can break certain norms, but you can only do so much before you've stuck your neck too far out."

A bit of a smile flirting on her lips, Lily couldn't help but remark, "You are always so pragmatic. Sometimes, throwing caution to the wind is  _good,_ you know? Being brave enough to do that can really get you some wonderful things."

"You're a lot more likely to end up in a bad spot if you don't plan ahead," the boy insisted.

Rolling her eyes at her counterpart, the redhead wondered just how stubborn Severus was going to be today. Sometimes, he was easy going - well, that wasn't quite right. Some days he was okay with being the follower and other days he was all about being the leader - or rather, the professor. Lily had a sneaking suspicions he felt she was in need of life lessons.

It would explain his mercurial moods, how sometimes he just let her be in charge of what they did and who they interacted with. Other times, he'd surprise her by leaping forth with an opinion or speech that made her wonder if he'd not lectured others on the very same subjects. For all his talk about planning and pragmatic behavior, he had not problem seizing in on an opportunity when he saw one.

It's probably why he was the Slytherin, Lily reminded herself.

Though, she was getting sort of annoyed with him...she wasn't a child, after all. She didn't need to listen to his lectures and trying to have discussion usually just lead to him twisting things so they fit his view (he never did seem to like to look at things the way she did).

Pausing among the trees, the girl made the boy meet her gaze. "How come you always have to be right?" She enquired.

"I don't-"

"Severus."

He scowled and crossed his arms.

She did the same.

It seemed they might have been stuck in a bit of standoff if a person hadn't called -

"Severus! Lily!"

Twisting around, the two saw Petunia walking toward them.

"What are you two doing over here? Hasn't mum told you time and time again to stay out of this place because of all the broken bottles and trash?"

Sharing a look of mutual annoyance, Lily was surprised to find how quickly they fell onto the same side again. "I thought I saw a cat," Lily fibbed as her older sister grabbed her hand and started dragging her away with a reluctant Severus following them.

"What is with you and cats?" Petunia grumbled. "You two are going to be  _so_ sorry when I tell mum!"

Taking her hand back, Lily stuck her tongue out with childish glee at her sister. "Oh belt up, 'tuney. You aren't the boss of us!"

"You think so?" The twelve year old scoffed. "Well then, maybe you'd  _like_ getting your foot sliced with dirty glass! Then you could have mum take you to the hospital to get a tetanus shot on your bum!"

Darkly, Severus mumbled, "Shots are nothing."

Casting the boy a nervous look, Petunia faltered for only a moment, "Even so-" she sucked in a breath, "You should listen to mum better."

"You don't listen," the boy countered. "She told you you're not allowed to be dating boys, but I saw you holding hands with that tall one from your school yesterday! He even kissed your cheek!"

Cheeks taking on a fervent red from her indignation, fury and embarrassment, Petunia sputtered, "How-"

" _I_ pay attention to what's around me!" Severus smugly declared.

Skinny shoulders going taut, The blond bared her teeth before snapping, "You little prick!"

"I won't tell on you if you don't tell on us," The boy offered to Lily's sister.

Glaring meanly at him, 'tuney gave a curt nod. "Alright," she agreed. "But don't go wandering into there again!"

Severus opened his mouth and Lily felt he was going to take things a step too far, so before he could ruin the promise he'd extracted from her sister, the girl smiled and declared loudly, "Okay! We won't go in there again, 'tuney!"

Not looking so riled, Petunia gave her sister an approving sniff and began to walk away with an errant comment tossed over her shoulder, "By the way, I see they letter sticking out of your pocket, Lily. I don't know what you two were going to do, but even you can't be sending out a letter to  _santa_ this early! So I suggest  _you_ be more careful next time!"

The two of them alone again, Severus murmured, "Prat."

Lily slapped his arm. "Stop, she's good as your sister now too. Anyway, she's probably just overly cranky. She  _is_ coming back from that sleepover at her friend's house."

"Fine," Severus agreed. "She's right about the letters, Lily. What are you doing with them sticking out like that?"

Looking to her coat pocket, she squinted at them and mumbled, "Erm, I might have been fiddling with them?"

Shaking his head, Severus smirked. "Thankfully she's not too suspicious. A letter to  _santa,_ really!"

"The perks of being nine," the girl giggled.

Agreeably, Severus chuckled too.

 


	56. Carry Us on Through

Smoothing her hair down in the bathroom mirror for the second time in an hour, Lily took in the rest of her appearance. She'd tried to put on her most grown-up clothing, but she really didn't have anything that made her feel mature. Her mother didn't believe in little girls wearing pants and so all she owned were dresses, skirts and tops. Most of her dresses held patterns or were adorned with peter pan collars. Her skirts they were all  _plaid_  and she refused to wear them today.

In the end, she'd gone digging through 'tuney's closet and found an older coverall dress she'd probably worn a couple years back. It was a bit long on Lily, but it was a nice, even blue and went well with the yellow long-sleeve she'd scrounged up. A knocking came from behind her. Head whipping around, she saw Severus standing in the doorway. He, thanks to being given the chance to pick his clothes, wore a pair of corduroys and a black button up.

"If you don't want to see him, you don't have to," he reminded her for the tenth time that morning.

Lily could hear the hopeful note. He didn't want her to see him - but, Lily knew that was to be expected. James had been his schoolyard bully and she'd learned that Severus had never forgiven him for that. It seemed a bit petty to the girl, to hold a grudge against someone even after they died, but who was she to judge when she was just as stubborn? Even when she'd been in hiding fearing for her life, she'd not thought to write an apology to Severus - even when she began to wonder during those long days with just Harry and James for company if she'd been too quick to rid him from her life.

Yes, of course he'd run with a bad crowd. Yes, he'd liked dark arts. Yes, he'd called her  _that_ word. But...well, maybe living with him as a pseudo-brother had made her a bit more understanding of him and his idiosyncrasies. Severus had never had it easy and she'd learned in her last year of life what living in constant fear could do to you.

Lily had sniped at James and fought with him more than she'd ever at Hogwarts while they'd been in hiding. And while she knew Severus would never admit it, the girl was quite certain he'd been afraid while at school of the Marauders and so many other things. He'd put up an admirable front for her and in their fifth year, it'd reached its' breaking point and he'd snapped. He'd called Lily a  _mudblood_.

Or maybe she was all wrong. Severus was a hard individual to read and understand, plus, Lily was known for wearing rose-colored glasses.

Pursing her lips, she stared at the boy's reflection in the mirror. "You know I have to," she told him.

A brooding look came to his face. "If you wanted, you could avoid him for the rest of your life," Severus remarked.

"Avoid  _James Potter_? Oh you're funny, Sev! He'd chase me to the ends of the earth!" And laughing gayly, she spun around and grabbed his hand. "Now, let's go. We have to be at the park a quarter to ten."

Severus made a grumbling noise that might have been him complaining, or it may have just been him talking to himself, but Lily was getting peaky from her fears and knew she needed to face them before she became too scared to do anything but cry.

Waltzing through the rest of her family's home, they put on their coats when Lily's mum yelled at them about it being nippy outside and walked out only to find Dirk coming out of his own home.

"Oh no..." Severus groaned.

Dirk, just a boy and unaware of what was to transpire, smiled and waved at them. Lily had to see James. She couldn't avoid this and it would not due to bring a child with. "Severus," she said, "I want you to take him elsewhere. Maybe the two of you could head to school? I know the monkey bars aren't  _nearly_ as high as they are at the park, but I'm sure you can entertain him a while."

"What?" the boy demanded. "You're going to go  _alone_? But what if-"

Giving his arm a hard squeeze, the girl hissed, "We won't be able to talk of  _anything_ if Dirk comes along! And since you and James hold each other in distaste, it makes sense for  _you_ to be the one to play with Dirk!"

The boy's shoulders slumped a look of resignation came to his face. "If you don't show up at school before lunch, I'm going to go there and bring Dirk  _with,_ " he threatened.

Gamely, Lily patted his shoulder and enthused, "It'll be alright, Sev! The two of you can have a fine time!"

"I doubt it!" Severus scoffed, but without further prompting, he crossed the street and began to talk to Dirk. Taking it as indication that she could go, Lily continued her journey to her pre-set destination.

The walk felt long and her knees felt weak. Twice, Lily almost considered turning back and feeding James some fib about being sick or getting stuck at home or  _something_ because she was so scared of what would happen between them without Severus there. What would she say to him? What would they talk about? Would he bring up Harry?

Lily didn't think she'd be able to handle that.

The park coming into her view, she saw Augustus standing beside a small boy -  _James_. Heart thud-thudding in her chest, Lily started to run. She hadn't realized it until now, but she'd  _missed_ him! Oh, how had she ever handled being away from him until now?

( _Severus,_ a voice whispered in the back of her mind,  _Severus has been filling the hole_ )

"James!" She screamed.

Jogging toward her, they fell to the ground in a clumsy heap as they embraced.

His nose was in her hair the same way hers was in his neck. He didn't smell like she remembered; there was not a trace of after-shave, baby shampoo or sweat. Lily's husband smelt vaguely of mint and of fresh bread, two smells she'd never once thought to associate with her James.

Pulling away, she met his tragic stare and they both knew they weren't the person they'd been missing.

Thing were different now.  _They_ were different now.

But, as Lily leaned in to put an apologetic kiss to James's lips. She felt the same sparkling feeling in her toes that she'd always gotten from being close with James and thought, maybe it was okay.

She and James could learn to love each other as they were now.

Dreamily, Lily thought of all the fun things they'd get to do for a second time. First date, first anniversary, first make-out session...Leaning her forehead on his, the girl whispered, "I didn't even know how much I'd been missing you until now."

"Oh  _really_? Snivellus is  _that_ satisfying?" James grumbled as he pulled away.

The girl wanted to hit him. She'd married him, hadn't she? And the way he'd  _said_ that...tears began to prick at her eyes. Didn't he know he was hurting her too with that jibe?

Pushing him back, Lily crossed her arms and whispered, "Do you always have to be so insecure when it comes to Severus? James, he's been living with me like a  _brother_ for the past several months. I don't think I could ever think of him as you're implying now. He has my love - always will - but to do anything overly romantic with him seems so... _wrong._ "

Face hard-set, James demanded, "And what about me? I saw the way you were looking at me before!"

"James, we can learn to love each other as we are now, please, don't turn this into huge fight-"

"Why in merlin's name would I do such a thing, Lily!? Oh, I don't know, maybe because the last time I saw you, you barely paid me a knut's worth of attention and whenever I write you, you never write anything important  _back_!

"Lily, I've been trying to be with you all this time and  _now_ you're telling me your only thinking of us being a couple?! Let me tell you something, Lily  _Potter_ , we might not have the papers, or the rings, but we are  _still_ married! We've been a couple this whole time even if you've refused to act like it!" he shouted at her with his face scarlet and hands waving.

With sudden, heart-crushing realization, Lily realized the position she'd put James in. She'd left him for  _months_ without the support she should have been giving him as his wife - no matter they were both children now. She'd forced him to grieve alone when at the very least, Severus was around to cry on even if he didn't always like the reasons for why she was weeping.

Lifting her face to meet his, she whispered, "I've really hurt you, haven't I?"

"Yes!" James bellowed and then, just like her, he was crying hard and loud. Opening her arms, she held him. Lily rocked him like she used to rock their baby and began to tear up right along with him when he started to apologizing for letting her die.

Kissing his wet cheeks, she whispered, "No, don't apologize, my love. We both knew what we were doing that night and because of it, our son got to  _live._ Our Harry, he lived and got to experience so many of the things we wanted him to..."

Glasses fogged up, James took them off and tucked them away. Kissing her again, he said, "I know I'm not the man you married, but please, don't leave me."

"I never left," Lily told him. "I just...I just took a vacation. I'm sorry I did, now. James, please keep writing me. I'll talk with you - promise."

He smiled and it was brilliant. "There's my girl," James complimented.

"And there's my husband," Lily echoed with a grin of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments so far!


	57. You Don't Believe, But you Still Keep On

Augusta had stuck around not for James's sake, but because she wished to speak with Severus. But seeing as the boy had not turned up with Lily, she was left to stand waiting alone as the boy and girl fought and cried and made up.

With a bit of amusement, she wondered if someone shouldn't have done this for the two all along. They had, from what James had told her, been communicating poorly for the past several months and he had made it quite clear he wanted to see her in person so he may get her to listen and to talk to him in a straightforward manner.

She couldn't be sure, but Augusta was quite certain that face-to-face communication was vital for any true relationship to survive - especially one that had just taken a blow like Lily and James's had. For all intents and purposes, they'd not only lost a baby, but had been forced to live apart for all of these months. And Lily, she suspected, had feared or not wanted to write about their son or what happened over a letter.

If it was out of fear or caution, Augusta commended the girl. One never knew what could happen to a letter or an owl between being delivered. And these days, she suspected something much worse was afoot anyway...

Something caught her attention from the corner of her eye and when she turned her head, Augusta's interests were piqued ever further at what she saw. It was Severus, but beside him tramped a boy of the same age. He had been talking, but upon seeing where Severus was looking, he stopped.

Gazing in the same direction, Augusta sighed. James and Lily were sitting across from one another, but their legs were outstretched and feet touching as they spoke about whatever it was that needed discussing. From the look of things, they had yet to notice Severus or the other child, either.

She pondered if stepping in was the right course. After a moment, Augusta decided it was best leaving this to be sorted out amongst themselves unless it took an unsavory turn toward punching, continuous screaming or accidental magic.

The boy grabbed Severus's hand and as he'd always, Severus kept her guessing when he did not immediately shake off the hold and instead used it to bring them both closer to Lily and James.

When they came within a half foot of the duo, the pair stopped. Augusta fought the urge to move closer. This was not her business and unless they started yelling, she should would have to make do with knowing nothing.

* * *

Lily looked away from James when she heard the threshing of feet through the grass. Glancing upward, she realized it was Severus and Dirk. Her pseudo-brother had an unreadable look in his eye and Dirk seemed a bit shy.

"Who's this Lily?" Dirk asked, "Is he a friend of yours?"

Casting a cool eye at her boy-husband, she nodded her head in agreement, "Yes, he is." Pointing over to Augusta, she told him, "That's his aunt, she brought him here so I could see him today."

"Oh, um, is he coming to lunch with us too?" The fair-haired boy asked.

Lily's brow furrowed. Lunch.  _Us_. Had Severus? Her attention whipped to the other boy and the question was on her lips, but he seemed to know she was going to ask because he told her, "It only seemed polite when I said I had to come get you for it."

"Ah," she replied. Truthfully, she wondered if he wasn't starting to like the child. Dirk was, after all, impeccably sweet and showed a knack for catching onto things quite quickly.

James, who'd been far too silent, fussily snapped, "You can't wait over  _there_ until we're done talking, Snape!"

Severus tensed and Lily began to scold the bespectacled boy, "James that's not-"

"He's rude!" Dirk exclaimed with obvious shock.

Lily rolled her lip between her teeth, "Erm, I wouldn't say he's  _exactly_ that-"

"It's more like he's an arse," Severus finished with a satisfied gleam to his eyes.

Scowling, Lily shouted, "Stop!" She was  _not_ going to get stuck in a middle of a fight between them.

Pointing a finger at James, she ordered, "You belt up for half a minute and  _you_ -" her finger wagging in Severus's direction, "Keep those smart comments to yourself while I finish speaking with James and say goodbye if you two refuse to be civil!"

Getting on her knees, then, Lily leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her husband's cheek. "James, I really have to be getting back home. It's lunchtime and my mum  _will_ come hunting for us if we don't show up soon. I love you, I will write you and we'll see about setting up another meeting."

Looking very dissatisfied, James grabbed her wrist and whined, "Can't you tell them to go on ahead and say you're spending lunch elsewhere?"

"No, James, my mum and dad  _know_ Dirk and Severus are the only mates I have here," Lily explained with a lot more patience than she thought she had in her.

Holding out a hand to help her up, Severus said, "Let's go, Lily."

Just as she was about to take the offered digits, Severus went tumbling into the ground as James cried, "Don't touch her! She's  _my_ wife!"

"James!" Lily screamed as Dirk jumped in and started fighting James too.

Lily was about to start forcing herself between them when Augusta appeared and pulled them apart. "And here I thought I was being dramatic thinking you'd get in a fight," she remarked as she placed them on either side of her and rummaged around in her purse so she could hand Severus a handkerchief for his nose.

Pressing it to his appendage, Severus grumbled, "It's probably because Potter is an irrational dunderhead!"

"You slimy-!" And James might have leapt again if Dirk hadn't stepped in front of Severus as Augusta held him back.

Lily shook her head at them. "James, this is one of the reasons I haven't been writing you. Look at you! We're just  _living_ in the same house! It's not like we're sharing a bed!"

"Not anymore, anyway," Severus brought up unhelpfully.

Pupils dilating, the bespectacled boy made a low growling noise and Lily could have thrashed them both for the way they were goading one another. Stamping her foot, Lily cried, "Sev _er_ us!"

He blinked at her and Dirk's head swiveled between their expressions.

Feeling very angry, Lily said, "Sometimes, I wish you lived with somewhere else. Then maybe  _James_ would stop turning into a big, possessive jerk all the time!"

"Do you really mean that, Lily?" Severus asked and he actually looked a little hurt if the way his shoulder slumped was anything to make a big deal of.

Dirk, who, despite his ability to grasp things at an admirable speed, still looked confused and seemed to feel Severus's hurt at a keener level than the furious girl in front of him and so, he swung an arm around his friend's shoulder and declared, "You can live with me, if you want, Sev!"

The dark-haired boy looked at the fair-haired child touching him and Lily back-tracked quickly, "No, no. I was just a little upset, my parents would be very sad if he didn't live with us anymore, Dirk."

" _I_ wouldn't be!" James grumbled and Lily might have shouted at him, but Augusta cuffed him around the ear just rough enough to make him wince.

Glaring, she told James, "You, sir, hush!"

Sulkily, Lily's husband did quiet. Turning her attention to her wounded friend, Lily almost touched his face, but thought better of it when she felt James's stare burn into her hand.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "You  _know_ I didn't mean it..."

Not quite in a mood to let it go - especially with James and Augusta and Dirk watching, Severus sneered, "Funny, I remember saying the same thing once..."

"Sev!" Lily groaned, "Oooh! We don't have time for this! Come on you two, we can fight this out later, Augusta, thank you for bringing James and James-" she met his gaze and considered kissing him, but thought better of it. Let him know all wasn't forgiven just yet.

Grabbing both Dirk and Severus's hands, she began to drag them away for her and Severus's home.

Augusta called after, "Excuse me! Severus?"

Stopping, Lily impatiently waited for the woman to speak with Severus. "Yes, Misses Longbottom?" he inquired

"I have several things I need to speak with you about on the D.E. front and I feel it is too sensitive for letters. Will you agree to some meeting in the near future?"

Bobbing his head, Severus agreed, "I will write you with possible times."

"Thank you," Augusta concluded and finally, the two boys and girls set off for home.

As they came closer and closer to Lily and Severus's home, Dirk remarked, "You guys aren't normal, are you? Besides being magic, I mean."

Realizing he's understanding more than he ought to, Lily and Severus share a look; their frustrations and fury toward each other forgotten at the moment. Figuring out what to do with Dirk was going to need their combined effort and they knew that it would only be more difficult to deal with if they let their fighting get in the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and please leave a kudo/comment to let me know what you think!


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